What Other's Cannot Do - 2014 rewrite
by Robin deLynn
Summary: Edward's mortal life came to an end September 1918. Why did Carlisle choose Edward? Did someone influence his decision? Carlisle finds joy in the family he creates with Edward so when he finds Esme, their past a memory he cannot forget, he attempts the impossible again. In canon and historically accurate.
1. A Natural Protector

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

A NATURAL PROTECTOR

_The cruel looking soldiers hovered threateningly over a group of cowering women and children. I was out of ammo and was unexpectedly face to face with the enemy. Enraged by the scene, I swung my rifle like a club at the closest soldier and he fell. _

_Suddenly I had become a kilted slavering berserker, gripping a massive crude cudgel, my long red hair flying as I savagely beat and killed the remaining enemy soldiers. Blood streaked and breathing heavily, jubilant in my victory, I watched as the women escape with their children. My triumphant roar echoed throughout the city._

I woke up with the sleep strangled cry in my throat, my heart pounding in my chest. It took me a moment to shake off the vivid dream. My aspiration was to become a soldier hero. My dreams were getting more dramatic and occasionally strange as I fixated on the prospect of killing the enemy and rescuing the innocent victims of tyranny.

It was 1918, the war was still raging in Europe, and at seventeen, I was considered a grown man - almost. I was old enough to go to college but was too young to fight in the war. I had begun my freshman year and was hoping to sway my parents' opinion that I should join the war effort when I reached eighteen.

Last year in high school the main topic had been the war in Europe. Days after my sixteenth birthday the first American soldiers headed to Europe. Friends and relatives who had reached twenty-one were leaving to enter the service. I was frustrated and jealous, but when they changed the draft age to eighteen* just before my seventeenth birthday I thought that I would get my chance. Other freshman college students left to join the service before being drafted making me even more anxious to go. There was no guarantee that I would be drafted so I was hoping that mother would soften a bit and not be opposed to me volunteering. I really didn't want to upset her but I was determined to go.

As I got closer to my eighteenth birthday the war continued, to my perverse joy and my mother's sorrow.

Mother was against the war and the thought of me going was terrifying to her. She prayed everyday that the awful war would end before I was old enough to go. I hated that my ambition made her feel that way, that she would be hurt when I left. My father had never verbalized his feelings on the subject. I was unsure how he would react to me leaving for war but I had a sense that he would be proud of me.

My mother, Elizabeth Masen, was a tall, round faced woman with reddish brown hair that was more bronze than red and green eyes. My father, Edward Masen, was a tall, dark haired, blue eyed man with angular features many years her elder.

I was 6 foot 2 inches tall and trim just on the lean side. Admittedly, I was skinny but I was muscular just misleadingly _not_ muscular looking. I had my mother's bronze hair and her green eyes. My skin was fair but not freckled. I had my father's even temper and subtle grace. I also had his angular facial features and long thin hands and fingers; the hands of a musician, my mother always said.

My parents were both very intelligent something I proudly inherited. I was very curious as a result. Too inquisitive sometimes and as a consequence my curiosity frequently got me into some uncomfortable situations.

Although I had my father's even temper and was slow to anger once I got angry I could get irrational. It was something I had to fight. I was very good at reading people especially when it came to getting my way so I didn't get angry often. I was strong-willed when I decided what I wanted to do. Especially if someone else didn't think I could accomplish it. Like my curiosity, my uncompromising stubbornness landed me in difficult situations.

My father and I were both Edwards but I was called Edward not junior. Everyone called my father Mr. Edward, even my mother. He was a lawyer and worked long hours so he was gone much of the time. He loved my mother and me and made every effort to give us quality time when he was home. Our family passion was baseball and picnics so we spent much of our quality time at baseball games. We also spent a few weeks in the summer at our vacation house on the east shore of Lake Michigan.

My parents were very good to me and I did what I could to please them. Yet being their only surviving child, two had died in their infancy, they didn't dote on or spoil me. Since I was small I had been good at figuring out what would please my mother. We were alone together a lot and I learned that good manners and courtesy went a long way towards making her happy. I loved doing little things for her, and making her happy made me happy.

There was something I could sense in her - a hum or vibration - and I'd tune into it when I wanted to find out how she was feeling about things I'd say or do. So without being whiny, I could usually persuade her to go along with most of my desires. Occasionally one of my ideas would strike her badly and I learned when her hum was out of my realm of influence. I knew I would never change her mind or it would be very difficult; my wish to become a soldier was in that category.

Father came home early from a New York business trip feeling ill and decided to stay home a few days. When his illness became worse the family physician, Dr. Campbell, came by to check on him.

"This may be that influenza going around but since Mr. Edward is a middle-aged man and healthy there is no need to worry. This is usually dangerous to the very young and elderly. He should recover in a week to ten days," he told my mother and left father some medicine.

The next day a note was delivered that Mary our new housekeeper had became ill and wouldn't be coming to work.

I gave them my support by staying home. I enjoyed helping mother out. Besides the number of ill students and professors caused many of my classes to be canceled.

A few days later we realized that Elsa our cook was ill. Elsa who had been with us for 12 years remained in her room on the third floor. Mother took over the kitchen because she actually loved cooking.

The morning newspaper had stories about the spreading epidemic and the rising death rate. Mother was worried now; father was wheezing and coughing more and getting out of bed less and less.

I was wondering if I needed to officially drop classes for the semester. If I couldn't go back to school I would fail and would lose all of my tuition money on top of it. I could wait a week but no more to see how things went at home.

Dr. Campbell came back with more medicine for father and Elsa.

"They are young and healthy," he said dismissedly. "There is nothing to worry about; they will get better in a few days."

Mother and I were taking care of father and Elsa. I assisted my mother by doing more housekeeping chores and the laundry since the housekeeper was still ill.


	2. The Spanish Influenza - 1918

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

THE SPANISH INFLUENZA - SEPTEMBER 1918

It was unseasonably cold for September even for Chicago, it dipped into the 40's and stayed there. The furnace wasn't usually burning this time of year but we needed the heat. In the winter after we lit the furnace, father and I usually traded shoveling coal into the furnace. It was up to me to keep the house warm. I also hung the freshly washed clothes to dry in the basement.

Climbing the stairs a dozen times a day was wearing Mother out. I was doing double that or more and it was starting to get a bit wearisome for me too. I spent a lot of time running up and down the different sets of stairs with food, clean laundry, forgotten items and furnace duty.

In the afternoons while mother sat with father, I sat with Elsa. We would chat, and she tried to sing with me but she mostly coughed. I read to her while she drowsed or slept. It was cold on the third floor no matter how much coal I shoveled and she couldn't get warm even with the extra blankets I brought up. I was getting worried about her.

Mother couldn't assist father when he got too weak to walk on his own so I had to help my father to the bathroom. The one large bathroom for the house was on the second floor by the back staircase down the hall from his bedroom and next to mine. Occasionally his uncontrollable coughing bouts would bring us to a standstill in the hallway. I could only stand there supporting him as he struggled through the racking cough. A few times I had to clean the floor afterward. When he became too weak with fever to leave his bed I got the onerous chore of emptying the chamber pot. Which come to think about it was the lesser of the two disgusting jobs.

Two days later I talked my mother into letting Elsa go into the hospital for care. She was almost too ill to make it down the stairs to the bathroom on her own. I knew she needed more care than we could give her. I too was feeling the illness take hold. I had a sore throat, cough, headache and fatigue so I told Mother I refused to carry chamber pots down from the third floor.

Dr. Campbell visited again that afternoon with medicine but he seemed to be ill himself. After checking father's and Elsa's condition, he used our telephone and called an ambulance. He wanted to send my father too but he refused to go.

The ambulance arrived within an hour and took Elsa to the hospital. I was relieved she was gone not only because she would get better care but since mother's illness was worsening I needed to be there for her.

Mother was ill but wouldn't slow down. Father needed her and her strong-willed nature wouldn't let her rest. Her cough which had been slight at first and had gotten worse as the week went on.

I kept up with her even though by the end of the week I was feeling the illness's increased effect on my body. She was obviously weakening, her coughs were increasingly debilitating. Her trips down the stairs were fewer and though she was still cooking we weren't eating much. She stayed upstairs to keep her strength and to be with father. After more than ten days father was still feverish and lethargic, he didn't seem like he was on the mend to me.

That evening we were expecting Dr. Campbell to visit when the bell rang. I was in the parlor playing the piano to entertain mother. It wasn't a very good performance since I had to stop frequently when my coughing got too rough. I walked to the entry hall and looked up the stairs. Mother walked only to the edge of the stairs to greet our expected visitor. She nodded her head and I answered the door. My racking cough intruded again and I gripped the doorknob until it subsided.

The cool humid air rushed into the entry hall as I looked out at our visitor. A man in a dark overcoat and hat carrying a doctor's bag stood at the door, just out of the rain.

"Good evening." He took off his hat. "I'm Dr. Cullen. I am making Dr. Campbell's rounds. He is ill and is unable to make house calls," he said, professionally and sort of efficiently foreign, in a light British accent. He had a pale handsome face and seemed a pleasant man.

"Come in." I stood back from the door and invited him in with a swoop of my hand. "Mother, Dr. Cullen is here. Dr. Campbell is ill," I said formally, looking up the stairs at her. "I knew he was," I muttered under my breath.

She looked at him oddly surprised at first then she smoothed her expression.

"Very well," she sighed. "I'm Elizabeth Masen, this is my son Edward. My husband _Mr_. Edward is upstairs. This way, please." She turned and then turned back to look back down the stairs, waiting on us to follow.

He sat his hat and bag on the entry table and removed his coat. I politely took his coat and hung it on the hall tree.

His expression was friendly as he picked up his bag and motioned for me to proceed. He followed me up the stairs keeping his eyes on my mother. I kept glancing back at his pale face and noticed him suppressing a small smile like he had remembered something humorous.

I kept looking at him trying to figure out how old he was because he looked too young to be a doctor. I thought they had sent us a rookie, and a rookie doctor from another country, at that. I tried to be offended but somehow I liked him. Maybe it was his smile but there was something familiar and soothing about him that I liked.

Mother was wheezing a bit as she sat in the chair just inside the door of father's room. She stifled her coughs as she watched the young doctor.

"Hello Mr. Masen, I'm Dr. Cullen. Dr. Campbell is ill and I'm following up on his patients tonight. Let's see how you are doing," he said with a pleasant smile as he pulled his stethoscope from his bag. "He wrote a note that he wanted you to go to the hospital and that you declined. Let's see how you have done here at home."

He checked father over, listening to his heart and lungs and checking his temperature and pulse. His face became more concerned as he collected his data. Curious I stood at the door watching, he seemed to do a thorough job even if he was a rookie.

Father let the doctor move him around and didn't try to assist the exam. He wasn't coughing as much but I didn't know if it was good or bad. Father kept his eyes on mother managing a slight smile once. When the exam was over he lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Mr. Masen you need to be in the hospital. Your lungs aren't getting enough oxygen to your body and your fever is dangerously high," Dr. Cullen said, his smile gone.

Father, eyes still closed, shook his head no. My father could be stubborn too.

The Dr. turned to mother. "Your husband is very ill he needs to be in hospital. You may need to be there soon yourself," he told her sternly.

He walked over and held her wrist to take her pulse. She looked down at his hand holding her wrist then up to his face for a moment before her eyes returned to father.

"No, we will stay here," she said watching father's shallow breathing.

"Mrs. Masen, you are ill. Let the nurses take care of your husband. I think he may have pneumonia and he is dehydrated. He needs the extra care," Dr. Cullen told her softly but exasperation was apparent in his voice.

He pulled out his stethoscope and attempted to listen to her lungs but she waved him away.

She got up and moved slowly across the room to sit in the chair next to father's bed shaking her head continuously. She didn't take her eyes off of him. He heard her sit next to him and sighed with another negative shake of his head.

"No, I can take care of him here. Hospitals are…_cough_…full of sick people. He will get better at home…_cough_… Edward will help me," she stated resolutely glancing over at me continuing to stifle her coughs.

"Mother," I said discouragingly hoping she would change her mind if I thought staying home was a bad idea. She shook her head again.

I could see and feel that she was determined. I knew her 'stubborn' hum. I wouldn't be able talk her into letting the doctor move my father when he didn't want to go.

I backed out into the hallway, sighed at her stubbornness and hung my head. I turned toward the stairs, and shook my head at the situation. She was afraid of the hospital. I knew they needed to go but I also knew when she was like this nothing short of imminent death would change her mind.


	3. All Are Stricken

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

ALL ARE STRICKEN

I was listening to mother's 'stubbornness' when I heard a strange new hum in the air. Curious I turned toward the noise and flinched when I saw Dr. Cullen standing in the doorway looking at me questioningly. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to smile, it came out a grimace. I stifled a cough and backed away from him and his stethoscope; the 'curious' hum was coming from him.

He leaned toward me as I retreated and took a deep breath. He looked at my face carefully and nodded his head. He returned to the room to address my mother.

"I will leave his medicine _and yours," _he gestured to both of us, "and I will be back tomorrow morning. Make sure you all drink plenty of water and get some rest - both of you. Please," Dr. Cullen said warmly and ended with a frustrated sigh.

I was back in the doorway watching mother as he spoke. She looked at me then at the doctor.

"Um," she sighed and for a second a blank look came over her face like she was lost in thought before she nodded and looked back at my father.

Dr. Cullen pulled two bottles from his bag and wrote on their blank labels. Watching him write on the bottles I looked up at his face and thought that he was probably a great father. He was caring for us with warmth but also like we were disobedient children. I wondered if he had children.

"Follow the instructions," he said sternly as he handed them to me. I nodded and sat them on the table just inside the door of father's room.

I led him down the stairs.

"There's no way she will let him go," he stated quietly, shaking his head knowingly.

"Only if she is so ill she can't be his nurse, then she will but not until then," I assured him. "Or if he's dying," I added stifling a cough.

"I hope the latter will wait," he said sincerely. "I will be here early in the morning to check on you." He retrieved his hat and coat.

"Ok. We will see you in the morning. Thank you for coming," I said letting my question about children go unasked.

"Take your medicine," he said as I held the door and let him out into the night. The damp chill in the air made me shiver and I suddenly felt worn out.

I turned the key in the lock, turned off the lamps and wearily climbed the stairs. I returned to the bedroom doorway to stare at my mother and father. They both looked pretty sick. The Doctor's words bothered me very much. I had an ominous feeling and it made me shiver.

"Here's the medicine." I took the bottles from the table and handed them to mother. I didn't read the instructions, I was suddenly too tired.

"Goodnight mother - father," I said. I smiled and kissed her cheek and patted my father's arm.

"Goodnight son." She smiled back stifling a cough. She sat the bottles next to others similar but empty bottles on the table next to her.

Father was asleep, his wheezing snore was shallow.

I went to my room and changed into my nightshirt. I left my clothes where they landed on the floor and I collapsed onto my bed suddenly exhausted. The room was cold, I'd forgotten to add coal to the furnace but I pulled the thin bedcovers over me and I fell asleep almost immediately.

_I was standing on an iceberg watching a polar bear dive after a seal. I was shivering; the notebook in my hand was shaking as I tried to make my notes. I had taken off my gloves to write down my findings. I looked around and my gloves were missing. I saw them lying on another iceberg. I tried to jump across the gap but fell into the water. I struggled out of the freezing water and crawled onto the pack ice. Shivering, my teeth chattering, I started walking toward an igloo. Suddenly I doubled over with a pain in my chest._

I woke up coughing and shivering beneath the bedcovers I had fallen asleep under. I pulled up my knees and pulled my night shirt down over them and rolled up in the thin covers trying to get warm. I tossed and turned shivering uncomfortably for a long while unwilling to get up for a thicker blanket when I finally fell asleep again.

_I was hacking my way through the jungle, exotic bird and fierce animal noises all around me. The hot and humid the air was stifling. Sweat was dripping down my arms and chest. I pulled out my kerchief and wiped the sweat from my forehead._

_Ahead in the distance the growl of a jaguar alerted me to draw my gun to bear. I looked around, I was alone. Panicked I called to my expedition partners and got no answer. Slowly I headed toward the jaguar's growl my sight impaired from sweat dripping into my eyes. Suddenly I doubled over with a pain in my chest._

I woke up again coughing violently, burning with fever and wet with sweat. I unrolled the bedcovers from around me kicking the damp cloth to the floor. My cough was worse; I couldn't catch my breath for a while. I dragged cool air into burning lungs and wheezed. My ribs hurt from the muscles pulling against the violent coughing spell. Each breath, if the wheezing didn't bring on another coughing fit, was a miracle. I don't know how long I lay there coughing and gasping for breath.

My night shirt was soaked with sweat. My body was burning with fever and the pain in my head was horrible. Sleep evaded me. Every time I moved to sit up I coughed and struggled for breath. Finally rolling into a ball lying on my side I rode out the coughing spell. As the coughing died down the chills struck me again.

My sweat soaked night shirt was a problem; the dampness was making the chills feel so much colder. I rolled off the bed thinking if I didn't sit up I wouldn't cough and that I would find my bedcover on the floor to wrap up in. I made it to the floor without triggering a cough but instead of the damp cover I found a heavy quilt folded neatly under the bed. I gratefully wrapped it around my body and lay curled up on the floor. Still shivering in the quilt I saw the recognizable shape of a chamber pot under the bed. I was tempted to use it for a moment but my earlier urge was gone. Restlessly shivering and coughing I fell into a light sleep.

Before dawn I woke up coughing violently once again, muscles pulling my ribs into painful spasms and chills running down my spine. I stayed curled up, my knees almost touching my chest; it helped to ease the pull of the cough.

I could hear my mother coughing also but my father was strangely quiet. I couldn't hear his wheezing snore. I caught my breath and was drowsing again when I heard my mother's voice. I was alert instantly.

"Edward," mother called to me in a weak voice. "Come ..._ wheeze…_and help me. I want to get your father upright, he is having..._cough_…trouble breathing."

"Coming mother." …_cough_…_wheeze_… _cough_… I was confused when I realized I was on the floor. I struggled to my feet holding my ribs together; they were burning in my chest even when I wasn't coughing.

My feverish mind was thoughtless as I reacted to my mother's call. I didn't put on my robe and I left my quilt lying on the floor. I was weak and my legs were unsteady. It was still dark outside but I didn't turn on my lamp; I depended on the dim light of the hall lamp near the stairs to find my way.

During the short time it took to get up from the floor heat replaced my chills and a feverish sweat broke out all over my body. I headed to my father's bedroom, stumbling down the hallway holding on to the wall. Sweat was beginning to run down my body, soaking my nightshirt under the one arm wrapped tightly around my ribs.

As I got to his bedroom door I had little strength left in my body and my knees buckled. I fell against the wall and slid down it. I hit the floor with a thud. I couldn't breathe without wheezing and the wheezing led to coughing. The sweat on my forehead ran into my eyes and stung; tears ran down my face and onto my shirt. I shivered on the cold floor in my damp nightshirt next to the door, raggedly breathing between coughs.

My mother was sitting on a chair next to the bed facing the door. She gasped when I sank to the floor. That gasp started her coughing and she couldn't seem to catch her breath either.

Sitting on the floor I twisted around to the edge of the door frame and looked in at my mother and father. She hadn't changed out of the clothes she had worn the day before. I couldn't tell if she had even gotten out of her chair. She looked awfully frail as she gasped for breaths between coughs. Father lay very still on the bed, I could see him breathing but it was very shallow and weak. His face was very pale.

It was then that I realized we weren't just sick, we were extremely ill. I remembered the doctor's reaction to my comment about my father dying. I panicked. I was really worried we would all die before the doctor could come and save us.

"Mother…_wheeze_… we have to get some help, neither one of us can help him." I managed to get out before a short spell of coughing.

She nodded wearily and stared at me bleakly.

"Edward, I don't think I can stand," she said softly, fretfully.

I cringed at her words wondering if it were true for me also.

"I'll go," I stated and determinedly pushed myself up with my remaining strength and stumbled toward the stairs, wheezing with each breath.

As I left she turned back to resumed her desperate watch over her husband.

I pulled myself down the dark staircase slowly, hanging onto the banister rail. I had to stop several times because coughing fits ripped the strength from me. My ribs were on fire as I leaned over the railing hoping to maintain control over my body until I could continue down again.

I made it to the bottom of the stairs and stood holding on to the newel post. I was feverishly wavering whether to go to the telephone or try getting someone's attention on the street when another coughing fit racked my body. Gripped in the midst of coughing spasms I had no control as my full bladder suddenly gave way. I was horrified and humiliated as the fever heated liquid ran down my legs and spread on the cold wood floor at my feet but there wasn't a thing I could do. The coughing finally subsided as I clung to the newel post resting my fevered forehead on its cool surface.

I cursed under my breath, knowing I was ready to collapse.

I wanted to scream or cry, I'd never felt so helpless.

I was able to breathe for a moment, my arm wrapped around my chest holding my aching ribs and barely standing, when a miracle happened. The bell rang - someone was at the door.

Desperate I eagerly lurched toward the door. My body jerked ahead of my unsteady legs. With one large wobbly step my feet slipped out from under me on the wet smooth wood. Off balance and without the strength to right myself I fell striking my head on the edge of the entry table. I cursed loudly when I hit the floor on my side, one arm still wrapped tightly around my ribs.

My head was swimming and my chest burned as I rolled over onto my stomach. The curtained window let in enough light from the street lamp that I could see the dark stain of blood dripping from my head onto the floor as I struggled to push myself up to my knees.

The bell rang again.

I heard a gasp and looked up and back to see my mother's face leaning against the bedroom doorframe, her hand over her mouth. Lit by the hall lamp I could see the color drain from her face. I could only imagine what she saw and what it had taken for her to move to that spot.

Our only hope was for me to get to the door so I struggled forward on my hands and knees. Blood was filling my eyes but I knew I was close. I reached up, wiped the blood from my eyes and saw the doorknob. I grabbed it and pulled myself up to sit on my knees. I turned the key and opened the door.

Through the small opening I saw the new doctor just before blood ran into my eyes again. Relief hit me like a hammer and I sank back to the floor and began coughing again.

*During World War I, there were three registrations. The third registration (signed into law May, 1918.) was held on September 12, 1918, and for the first time registered men 18 through 45. Edward's birthday is June 21, 1901 he would be 18 in June of 1919.


	4. The Doctor's Fateful Visit

THE DOCTOR'S FATEFUL VISIT

Carlisle's POV

I stood at the front door of the house I left only hours ago. I had come early, much earlier than I should but I was very concerned for them but especially for the young man. I thought he could survive if treated soon.

Of my almost 260 years of existence I have spent the last 150 years developing my ability to treat and help cure humans of their ailments. My goal is to alleviate some of their pain and suffering if I can. Because of my enhanced senses I have saved the lives of those who would have otherwise perished.

I could hear someone inside coughing violently. I waited until the coughing stopped and rang the door bell. I was grateful I had come this early. Last night I knew that the father was fatally ill but the mother and son would be very ill today.

I had smelled a change happening in young Edward's blood before I left - he had influenza like his mother and father, but it had overwhelmed his system rapidly and even in this short time he may have developed pneumonia.

Hoping that it wasn't too late for him and his mother, I had to convince them to come to the hospital today. It would have been better if they had come with me last night but neither the man nor his wife would budge. The man wouldn't survive either way but I had no authority to force them, being their interim doctor.

I heard someone fall near the door and was ready to break in when I smelled blood but I heard young Edward's voice close to the door. I recognized it even though it was wheezing and weak.

I rang the bell again and hearing a shuffling noise coming closer, I waited. A long moment later the key turned in the lock and the door opened slightly and the additional smell of fevered sweat and urine hit me. Edward fell backward to the floor, blood covering his face. He began coughing again as I pushed the door open. I knew he was the only one downstairs and that his parents were still alive upstairs in the bedroom.

"Oh my God!" the familiar hospital lament slipped from my lips. "Edward?" Shocked by his appearance I fairly flew into the house, the door slammed violently shut behind me separating us from the chilly predawn air.

Anxiously and a little too quickly I pulled him up to sit with his back against the wall. Sitting up eased his coughing but fresh blood flowed from a long gash at his hairline covering his face again where he had wiped it away. It was now dripping off his jaw, staining his pale night shirt which was also soaked with sweat and urine. His hands as well as his knees and feet were blood stained. He groaned as I pushed his head back and pinched the gaping wound closed to stop the flow of blood. His fever was very high and he shivered in his wet clothes on the cold floor.

"Edward, what happened?" I asked calmly, listening to his body tell me his condition. I _sensed_ his cracked and bruised ribs by the extra blood flow to the area and smelled the excess of white cells in his blood fighting infection.

He opened his eyes apparently unfocused for a moment before he looked at me.

"Please…my father _… _can't breathe … mother …need help," he said wheezing with every word before yet another coughing fit hit him.

"I'm going to call for an ambulance," I informed him. "Do you have a telephone?"

He nodded slightly, still coughing and motioned toward the parlor and while gasping for breath he passed out. His breathing steadied slightly.

I gazed around the entry area and saw the puddle of urine at the bottom of the stairs, the sliding footprints that had caused his fall, the outline of a pool of blood where he had fallen and the smeared trail to the door. It appeared that he used the rest of his strength to reach the door.

"You are a very brave fighter, young man," I said aloud though I knew he couldn't hear me. I wiped away most of the wet blood from his face but dried blood still caked one side.

I needed to stop the bleeding. It was too large a gash to leave untended, so since he was unconscious at the moment, I decided to close the wound. I moved at my preternatural speed and in only a minute I had it cleaned and stitched.

Having relieved his most pressing need, I went into the parlor to locate the telephone. I heard feeble coughing from the upstairs bedroom.

"Mrs. Masen, it's Dr. Cullen. I'm calling an ambulance for your family," I announced from the parlor and. I heard a faint sigh from her direction. Though I didn't need it, I turned on a light in the room and called the hospital for an ambulance.

After the call, I hurried up the stairs to check on Mrs. Masen and her husband.

She was sitting in a chair just inside the doorway facing her husband's bed, her breathing was weak and ragged. She watched me enter the room and smiled weakly.

"Thank you," she said very softly.

"I've called an ambulance; it should be here in a few minutes. You _are_ going to the hospital," I said looking her in the eyes. She nodded once.

I moved a chair away from the bedside to check on Mr. Masen. Pneumonia had filled his lungs with fluid. A telltale scent in his blood told me that his kidneys had failed and he wouldn't last much longer.

Mrs. Masen was not much better; she was holding herself together by pure will. I cringed when I saw the unopened bottles of medicine sitting on the bedside table. I walked over to her and assessed her fever and breathing.

"My son?" she asked softly, staring up at me, carefully studying my face.

"He is very ill and is going to the hospital too. He injured his head but I've stopped the bleeding," I told her.

She smiled wearily, closed her eyes and nodded but didn't move otherwise. "Oh angel… it's true," she muttered almost soundlessly under her breath her eyes still closed.

I knew I was wasting my time but I managed to get some of the medicine into Mrs. Masen before I headed downstairs to medicate Edward. He was asleep, breathing raggedly. I gave him an injection of a pain reliever for his ribs and head wound, knowing it would also reduce his coughing and help him with the uncomfortable trip to the hospital.

A few minutes later I lit the entry table lamp and opened the door for the ambulance attendants. Edward was unconscious and unusually still by the front door. The glare of the lamp emphasized just how pale he was and beads of sweat glistened on his skin in the lamp light. A strange passing impression made me catch my breath but I shook off the odd thought as I watched his neck pulse with his beating heart.

I directed the attendants to the second floor and they loaded Mr. Masen on the stretcher and took him out. He was in such a weakened state he did not awaken during the move. They returned with a second stretcher for Mrs. Masen.

"Edward," his mother sighed and reached out for her son as they carried her past him.

Edward looked dreadful in the light, half of his pale face, his hair, hands and feet caked with blood and blood stained his night clothes. I was crouched next to him, he began shivering again as the cold air came in the open door. She looked at me with a peculiar expression on her face. Because of all the blood I expected her to ask me how severe his injury was but she didn't. Her eyes returned to him and I glanced at the row of stitches at his hairline. They were barely visible - she wouldn't notice, I thought.

"I'll take the boy in my car," I told both her and the ambulance driver, knowing that there was only room for the two in the back. I didn't want her to worry since he wouldn't be in the ambulance with her. She smiled almost blissfully and laid her head down as they took her outside. The air outside was cold so the attendant brought me a heavy blanket and I wrapped the wet bloody boy in it.

Dawn was arriving soon, the sky was cloudless and I knew there was no time for dawdling. Trying to be useful, the attendant helped me as I put him in the back seat of my car. I drove very fast to the hospital, taking a different route and we arrived before the ambulance.


	5. Hospital, Deaths and Hope

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

**AN: I apologize that the contents were mixed up I think I have fixed it now. I can't cut and paste like I'm used to and this is what happens, I will double check each chapter from now on.**

HOSPITAL, DEATHS AND HOPE

"Edward," I heard my mother's dreamlike soft voice drag me to partial wakefulness.

"Let's get you to the hospital." I thought I heard the doctor voice as I felt myself lifted from the cold floor and wrapped in something warm. Muted pains ached but I couldn't pinpoint them.

"Mother," I mumbled my lips trembling from the cold.

Suddenly I felt I was moving, but I was drifting in and out of consciousness and unsure of anything.

"Mother," I mumbled again.

"You will be okay." I heard the doctor say. "They are on their way to the hospital in the ambulance. You were very brave."

Lying still, now warmer and a little more aware, I could tell that my head ached, my ribs burned and I could barely breathe but I felt wonderful. I had succeeded in getting help for my parents.

We arrived at the hospital and nothing made much sense, I was delirious most everything was a blur of movement. I vaguely recalled a ward and rows of beds side by side. I remember Dr. Cullen's friendly face and my mother in the bed next to me but not much else.

Pain woke me as a nurse cleaned me up and cut away my bloody night shirt. I groaned when she moved me to put on a clean night shirt. Dr. Cullen felt my painful ribs and wrapped them up tight. The tightness caused a little twinge of pain but it was much less painful to cough. Mother tried to comfort me from her bed reaching out weakly toward me. I heard the nurse fuss at her for trying to get out of bed. So instead she crooned to me between coughs.

Strong medicine relieved my coughing, aching ribs and head and eased me into sleep.

Each time I could hear my mother's voice I knew a nurse had entered our part of the ward. I was in and out of consciousness all day; but as sensitive as I was to her voice when she spoke it dragged me to wakefulness. She asked them to check on me and my father. How she remained so aware was beyond me.

Between the drugs and the fever I was delirious and only vaguely aware of when my mother started to cry. Still I was unable to sleep through her sobs. I opened my eyes to see her pale, fragile and distraught face. Her appearance awakened me completely. The light seemed to have gone out of her.

Behind her they were moving my father's covered body from the bed to a gurney, I suddenly realized that father had died. She turned toward me and didn't watch; instead she focused on my face. We didn't say much to each other, I stared into her wet green eyes and she stared into mine.

"Don't go," I said to her through my tears. My throat tightened as I was unable to face the real possibility that she could die also.

"You must stay even if I can't. Be brave," she replied weakly. She seemed ready to follow her husband but dreaded leaving me alone.

"I'll try," I replied fearfully - miserably - sleepily.

I cried. Tears fell for my father, for my mother and for me. I cried and fell asleep with fever hot tears on my face.

I slept. I awoke to someone trying to feed me broth and pushed them away. I slept more, awakening only when I heard my mother fussing at a nurse for not checking on me more often.

Dr. Cullen returned and even asleep I knew when he arrived. There was a different 'sound' to the room when he was around. I didn't think I would have noticed in my feverish daze except I had been hanging on to my mother's familiar mental vibration, almost frantically willing it to remain. I was very aware of the vibrations around me. I noticed how the atmosphere had changed when he left. Now that he was back the additional soothing hum returned. His cold hand on my head was comforting as he checked my fever but I continued to drowse.

My mother's voice awakened me. The twilight sky outside was adding its meager light to the dimly lit ward. I didn't know if it was dusk or dawn. My eyes felt hot and dry as I turned my head toward her voice.

She was talking to the doctor. He was standing on the other side of her bed facing both of us and I heard her plead with him to help me.

"We'll do everything in our power," he assured her with a small smile, patting her hand that had tightly gripped his coat sleeve.

"You must do everything in _your_ power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward."* Her small weak voice pleaded but her plea was adamant. She held his arm and gaze for a long moment before her hand fell back to the bed into a fist.

Stunned at her persuasive tone I became very aware of the charged atmosphere around us. Even feverish as I was I couldn't imagine what she thought he could do beside the care he was already giving us.

He was looking from her to me again and again, his eyes flickering back and forth. His calm face belied some unusual mental activity.

Then he cocked his head and stared intently at her face. He took her fist and unfolded it holding her hand. I thought I heard her gasp.

I could feel some incredible vibrations shaking through me. They were almost talking to me, I couldn't tell if it was because of the fever but they were speaking. I stared, my dry eyes unfocused, at the air above their heads and listened to them pulse against my brain. … _yes… no… need … want… denial… acceptance … relief…._ For a moment I thought it was my father standing beside the bed. "Father?" I mouthed the word but I blinked my dry eyes and shook my head against the confused thoughts. I refocused on the doctor. My mother was still staring at him.

After another moment he nodded still staring into her eyes and her whole body relaxed. He had resolved to help her - me - I didn't know how but somehow I knew it was so.

"Mother," I muttered. My lips moved but there was no volume to my voice.

The doctor looked over at me.

I was struggling for every breath now but I hated hearing her plead for me that way. I didn't want to know she was dying. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer either. Breathing had become my only chore and I was failing at that. There was only so much a doctor could do after all.

My eyes dried out from the fever made it hard to keep them open but I stared at my mother and the doctor. Dr. Cullen held her hand as her breathing faltered several times, he stroked her head trying to comfort her but he was watching me. His eyes told me what I didn't want to know and my dry eyes refused to squeeze out even a tiny tear.

A nurse replaced him so he could continue his rounds. I closed my feverish eyes and listened to her shallow breathing. I felt her gentle mental hum next to me and his moving away. I fell asleep.

I don't know how long I was asleep but I was jolted awake when the sudden silence stuck me. I lay there staring at her as they covered her face. Her familiar mental hum was gone. My emotions were in shreds and I was finally defeated.

My strongest connections to this world were gone.

I couldn't move to hold her in my arms, I was too weak.

I couldn't speak to say goodbye, I had no breath.

I was unable to cry, rant or scream. I was unable to do much of anything. The fever had stolen it all.

I was also ready to die.

The lump in my throat was my only physical reaction to my emotional anguish. I closed my tearless eyes and let the medication remove me from the world, hoping that death would take me in my sleep.

*_New Moon_, by Stephanie Meyers, Chapter 2.


	6. Decision Made on Faith

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

**AN: I apologize that the contents were mixed up I think I have fixed it now. I can't cut and paste like I'm used to and this is what happens, I will double check each chapter from now on.**

DECISION MADE ON FAITH

I struggled with myself looking deep into her failing green eyes. What made her believe I had any power to save Edward? I could smell and hear that she only had a few hours left, if that. I had questions I couldn't ask regardless of how close to death she was.

She pleaded with me wanting to see 'Yes' in my eyes. Somehow she knew or felt I could do something for her Edward; something others could not do and I had no doubt she believed in my ability to save him with all her being. What did she know or was it only her delirium?

I held her hand as she continued to stare hopefully into my eyes.

"Save him, take him with you. He needs a father. You know what to do." Her lips moved with no breath to force out the words.

I knew what she said and her words startled me.

The idea was so compelling. He seemed so right for my way of life. He was good, compassionate, loving and intelligent. He might understand living with my self-imposed restraints. It would be a relief, no an amazing blessing, to have someone close to me if it did work.

I thought of my brief startled image of him lying on the floor at his home so still and pale, coated in blood like a newborn vampire dazed from his first kill. His feverish skin had glistened in the lamp light, as mine would in the sunlight. If it hadn't been for his soft heartbeat, I would have sworn he had already been changed.

Was it a premonition?

It was indefensible to attempt the transformation if there was a chance he would live but he was going to die anyway. I knew he couldn't survive in his condition; his body was quickly losing its battle with the pneumonia complication of the influenza. I was wavering only because becoming like me was difficult. I didn't know if I would kill him myself.

She was desperate for me to save him but _what_ did she know?

Something was bothering me then I abruptly thought – premonition? I'd never had a vision of my own making before. Was it a premonition or a sending from her … or both? Was she gifted? My mind reeled with the possibilities. It might explain her peculiar expressions, the sudden racing of her heart when I met her and why she hadn't ask about his injuries.

I glanced over at her remarkable boy. He was struggling to breathe as he watched his mother with his feverish bloodshot green eyes. For a fraction of a second so fast that I wasn't really sure I had seen it, Edwards's irises flashed brilliant red. He slowly blinked his dry eyes and looked up at me. His irises were definitely red. I watched astonished as they quickly faded from a deep blood red to a warm honey color. His dry irritated eyes fluttered and returned to his own bloodshot green eyes.

Something unusual was definitely happening. I looked back at her searching her face for some clue but she continued to look at me expectantly.

_He needs a father_, _you know what to do_. Did she have a premonition that he would accept my alternative way of existing if he was changed? Did she know what she was asking? In less than a second my mind ran through thousands of iterations of what I had just seen. They all came back to the same thing: didn't it matter if she knew what she was asking? She was telling me it would work.

I finally gave in. She had done what others, including myself, could not do; she convinced me to try and make a vampire like myself, not just a companion – a son. He was dying and there was nothing I could do as a doctor to stop it. If he died in the attempt I would have been trying to save his existence. I would have faith that if it was meant to be, it would happen.

I nodded my head and she totally relaxed, a smile on her lips as she closed her eyes. I heard Edward muttering and looked over at him, he wasn't breathing very well. He was staring at his mother then he looked up at me. I tried to soothe her discomfort as she struggled to breathe. I stared at him, watching him, he knew his mother was dying. Somehow he saw it in my eyes and his eyes dimmed as they closed, he was giving up, dying inside too.

As I moved around the ward part of my mind listened to both Mrs. Masen and Edward's breathing and heart rate. I intended taking him down to the morgue just after my rounds, it was the easiest way to get him out of the hospital. I was sure he would survive that long.

I was anxious and excited, my thoughts were distracted. My other patients were not getting my full attention. I considered that I would not be able to come back to the hospital again, taking care of a newborn vampire would be a full time job. The thought made me sad for only a moment until I reflected on all the unknowns that Edward represented, special talent or not. My existence without a doubt was about to change drastically. If all went well I was going to be a father, I was going to have a son. If he became my companion it would be a wonderful gift, if not at least I knew he had a kind and gentle heart. I was hopeful.

Now that I had hope I only hoped I didn't act to late. I had heard several hearts stop in the last hour.

I sighed when I heard Mrs. Masen's heart stop and her last breath escape. I had thought she was the stronger of the two and would have survived longer than Edward.


	7. Body Snatcher

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

**AN: I apologize that the contents were mixed up I think I have fixed it now. I can't cut and paste like I'm used to and this is what happens, I will double check each chapter from now on.**

BODY SNATCHER

As soon as I heard them get ready to take Mrs. Masen's body to the morgue I was there to take her myself. I looked over at Edward, he was asleep. His heartbeat was steady although his lungs were struggling.

I took her down to the expanded morgue in the basement and placed her on one of the few tables left. I also noticed that the morgue was empty of attendants, it was a busy night. I headed back to the ward with the gurney. No one noticed as I moved Edward on to it, covering his face. He was breathing so shallowly he appeared lifeless.

I took him down to the basement. Bodies filled all the tables now and the attendants passed me by leaving with their empty gurneys, grimly retrieving other fatalities.

I prayed, _Lord if you don't want me to do this, take the boy with you now._

Hope swelled in me as he took a long shallow breath and his heart continued its steady beat.

A moment later when I was alone I wrapped him tightly in a few blankets and pulled open the basement exit door. I climbed the fire escape to the rooftop and ran jumping across the rooftops to the outskirts of the city. We were only a streak in the darkness of the night. I barely jostled the boy as I sped toward my home on the river. I listened to his clogged lungs struggle for breath and to his heartbeat beginning to fluctuate.

Minutes later I stood in the parlor of my home. I looked down at the young man I held in my arms. I had to act quickly or his heart wouldn't have enough strength, his life was now measured in mere minutes, either way. I quickly climbed the stairs to the basement.

For years in my darker lonely moments I had thought of 'creating' a companion but I was uncertain of the process. I hadn't the faintest idea how difficult it would be. I didn't know if I was strong enough not to kill him. He would not understand what was happening to him, I couldn't bear him having his last sight of the doctor who had been his rescuer revealed as his killer.

I knew from my time in Europe that we were a rare breed. We were difficult to create because it was almost impossible to stop feeding once we tasted human blood. I knew that I had 'survived' because the vampire that bit me didn't have time to finish what he'd started, there was a mob chasing him. Had they found me 'infected' the mob would have killed me too. At that time, I knew I dared not betray my hiding spot, for it meant certain death. It took monumental control to keep from screaming out from the unbelievable pain.

I laid the boy on a bed in the darkness of a windowless room, I chose the basement for reason and it made me shudder. If I gave him the same wounds I had received there would be no reason for him to control his reaction to the excruciating pain. The earthen walls would muffle the sounds of his screams.

Contemplating where to bite him started the venom flowing in my mouth. It appalled me to think that even now after never tasting human blood I would react so. I didn't know if I had control strong enough to do this extraordinary thing or if he was strong enough to survive it.

"I'm sorry that this will be so painful," I whispered in his ear though I knew he couldn't hear me. I turned his head and lifted his shoulder from the bed and exposed his neck where the large jugular vein ran and the pulsing artery beneath. His heart beat evenly. I knew that his lungs were his weak point now, if he stopped breathing it didn't matter how strong his heart was, he would die. I had to give him the wounds quickly so the venom could do its horrifically painful but healing work.

I bit into his neck and the large vein burst. Hot blood flowed around my teeth down his neck and across his chest. I was in agony as the smell and taste of his blood thrilled me and put my lifelong ethics to the test. I fought against the thirst as it exploded into flames burning down my throat, stomach twisting, my whole body suddenly aflame reacting with eagerness for the expected feast.

I toughened myself and only listened to what was happening to the boy. My venom hit his blood stream and it began to thicken. I bit further until I hit the carotid artery and his blood sprayed into my mouth. The taste of his fever heated arterial blood as it hit my tongue was an even more excruciating temptation. The thirst frantically tore at me and was almost irresistible in it blazing insistence.

With strength I derived from over twenty-six decades of denial, I found the will to not drink his blood. My jaw was locked onto his neck and I had to focus intently to make myself release its hold. I pulled back and spat out the blood.

It had only been seconds and he tried to scream, the pain had awakened him, the lack of air in his lungs kept him from screaming. He struggled weakly against the pain I knew he was just beginning to feel, gasping for what little air he could pull into his congested lungs.

I held my breath against the smell of his blood. What I had been able to ignore for fifteen decades was now a shocking temptation with the taste of it fresh on my tongue. Trembling, I grasped his wrist knowing I had to continue what I started. He froze, suddenly still, as my cold hands held captive his feverish arm. I bit into his wrist until I felt a pulse of arterial blood spray against my teeth. Again the almost irresistible urge to draw his blood into my mouth assailed me. Again I prohibited myself from swallowing.

This time it was only marginally so but still easier to unlock my jaw and release my hold. The venom was flowing so copiously from my mouth that it coated the wound and the flow of blood stopped.

"Please forgive me, but this is the only way I know," I heard my anguished voice say.

He pulled weakly at his injured arm but I held it still. I was worried that the convulsions caused by his reaction to the venom might fatally injure his weakened body. I suddenly felt I had to restrain him. I pulled off my belt to secure him to the bed frame only to realize that the bed he was lying on had thick padded leather restraints, the type designed for restraining strong unruly patients. I wondered fleetingly how the doctor who formerly owned the house had used the bed as I buckled the strap around his wrist. Edward attempted to scream again but his fluid filled lungs didn't allow it; all he managed was a strangled cough.

I moved to the end of the bed and grasped his ankle. Still holding my breath I bit his calf just above his ankle until I felt my teeth sink into the weakly pulsing artery. The venom flowing from my mouth filled the wound, racing into his blood stream. When I unlocked my jaw and pulled away the blood had stopped flowing from the wound. His heart was moving the venom through his body along with his now treacherous blood. I kept my grip on his leg as he reacted to the additional pain.

Fighting my vile urges mentally drained me to the point of exhaustion. I held him down as he weakly writhed on the bed trying to scream with almost airless lungs knowing that as soon as the venom started healing him he would be a threat to me. I knew newborns were extremely powerful and I remembered from a conversation almost two centuries ago that transformations could take as long as three days.

I was unsure how long it had taken me to transform, but I recalled the dirt floor of my cellar sanctuary as I left it; nothing remained but the splintered wood of the potato bin and rotted potatoes mashed into pulp. At the time I had an idea of what was happening and had been in perfect health. His body was weak and might not take the additional strain of the struggle ahead.

I strapped down his ankles, buckled the strap that went across his body and strapped down his other arm too. I could restrain him for a few hours until the venom healed his weakened body, after that he could break them easily.

Yes, I was hopeful but I was also realistic - unsure of what I was unleashing. Until…

"Mother? Father?" he cried in pain, pleading with his short supply of air. "Help me!" His lips moved forming the words but there was no air to release them.

Maybe it would be alright. I hadn't killed him and I could breathe again. I moved away and stood against the wall.

"Don't pull on the restraints there are there for your protection," I said not knowing if he could hear me.

I was in agony as I waited, knowing his pain. Hopeful, as he continued gasping for air and worried, as he attempted to scream**.**


	8. Pain and Confusion

PAIN AND CONFUSION

Edward's POV

I drifted in and out, it was very quiet, _am I dead or asleep?_

Out of the still emptiness there was movement and something cold touched me. There was a sudden tearing at my throat and a pain like I had never known jerked me wide awake. Hot fluid poured down my neck and across my chest. I tried to scream but had little breath in my lungs so I struggled to get away from the pain.

I gasped trying to pull air into my failing lungs. Then I felt more movement near me and even through the pain I froze with terror.

Something cold and hard had grasped my arm and there was more pain at my wrist. I made another feeble attempt to scream. I tried to jerk my arm away from the cold but the iron grip held it motionless.

"Please forgive me, but this is the only way I know," I heard an anguished voice say.

A second later a searing pain ripped into my calf. I pulled at my leg but it wouldn't move either. Pain spread throughout my body as my brain tried to make sense of it all. My congested lungs struggled to pull in air so I could scream but I could barely breathe.

_My fever, it's getting worse. This has to be a nightmare. I'm delirious … but … the pain feels so real._

"Mother? Father?" I managed to cry, pleading breathlessly. "Help me." Uselessly willing them to help me.

Abruptly it felt as if the skin on my neck and face had been set on fire, then the skin on my arm and my leg was ablaze. I struggled to move from the pain.

"Don't pull on the restraints they are there for your protection," a sad voice came from the darkness. Someone was trying to protect me, to help me. Steadily the fire crept into my muscles until all I could feel was the rasping lick of searing flames.

"I'm burning, oh God, I'm burning," my voice a frantic hoarse whisper. I could barely breathe but that didn't stop me from screaming. My mind was screaming with the painful torment that my lungs were unable to provide an outlet for. I tried to see but my dry feverish eyes were sightless it was so dark. I saw no fire, no flames.

I closed my painfully dry eyes, wailing pitifully in agony, with the little air I could pull into my lungs. Then the intense flames hit my mouth and my eyes, the pain closed down my throat for a long moment leaving me with what little breath I had in my lungs. I struggled to breath and as I finally pulled in a breath my lungs also caught on fire. Each new breath filled me with both relief and horrible pain.

I thrashed about feebly trying to put out the flames that seemed all around me. As I struggled someone placed cold hard stones on my chest to hold me on the bed. I remembered someone was here with me but were they helping me or hurting me?

I tried to think, to ask for help, to plead for mercy, to beg to die, to find an escape but all of that evaded me. All I could do was burn.

The excruciating pain went on and on, flames inching their way through my body, consuming every part. I was lost in a timeless eternity of intensely burning torment that even destroyed my thoughts.

Eventually a sound broke through the pain and I heard someone in the room. My brain reached out for any comfort no matter how preposterous.

"Mother!" I cried but the burning torment overwhelmed me again and my throat exploded with another agonized scream.

"Mother!" I screeched again, writhing in pain but this time I heard a voice in the darkness.

'_What was his mother thinking?'_ a voice asked.

"Mother?" My hoarse voice cried. Miserably, I thought _she's dead isn't she?_

'_What was I thinking?'_ the voice cried wretchedly.

"Kill me or help me. Don't let me burn alive," I screamed at the person behind the voice though I knew I was already ashes by now. This was hell and I was burning.

I first heard a sigh then, '_There is no help for this… unfortunately.' _

"Help me, stop this pain!" I screamed in frustration. Then I realized I had regained my voice, and I was actually able to think a little now between screams. Remarkably I was able to breathe easily but each breath seemed to pull in more flames.

'_I would but nothing can be done.'_

"I'm sorry about the pain, it can't be helped, but it will go away," the voice said. '_I wonder if a pain killer would be effective.'_

"Something for the pain, anything. I'm burning up," I yelled, angry now. I screamed with both frustration and the merciless pain as it wormed its way into another pocket of uncharred flesh and set it ablaze.

I could sense other things besides the pain, it was still there but I could smell sweat, dirt, wood and metal, something sickly sweet and a flowery, honey, and cinnamon odor but no smell of my flesh burning.

'_What is going on? Could he?'_

"I'm sorry that it is so painful but it will end, I promise." That promise of relief repeated again. '_It's been three days – it must be soon…he is breathing easier.'_

"What? How long?" I wailed, hardly able to believe what I was hearing. I'd been in this burning hell for three days?

"Soon," the voice said.

Soon? Soon what, days, hours, minutes? I moaned in frustration, he wasn't helping relieve my pain or my mind.

'_Would it have taken less time with more venom?'_

"Venom? Snake?" I cried hoarsely in confusion. It didn't make sense then another round of intense pain hit me and I started to thrash on the table. How could there be anything left of me to burn?

'_No, Oh! What? Did he? - I thought it and hmm, maybe… let's see. Please… don't pull on the restraints too hard they may break.'_ The voice winced as I heard him pull in a quick breath. I hadn't been straining against the straps vaguely remembering they were there for my protection but I couldn't stop struggling against the pain and my back arched with its intensity.

I realized then it was a male voice I was hearing.

'_Yes! He did hear me.' _"NO, no snakes. You are fine. It will just be a little longer," he said somewhat anxiously finally answering my question. '_Yes, now I know... Maybe nothing is wrong.'_

"What is wrong?" I asked in a panic. I noticed that I was feeling more and sensing more. I could breathe without moaning or crying out with every exhale though the horrible pain was still relentless.

'_No, nothing is wrong. Is it easing?' _The voice finally answered, he was still anxious but his voice was soothing to me now.

"No. Yes, it's easier to think." I didn't have to struggle to speak. The burning pain was still as intense; I was just able to think through it.

'_Good! Not much longer, the pain will end soon.'_

I opened my eyes. It was dark, no light in the room but I somehow I could see. My first sight was the clock on the wall, it read 1:15 and the second hand moved so slowly I thought it must be broken. I saw no flames but still my body burned.

Then I heard someone breathing close to me. I turned my head to see Dr. Cullen standing next to the bed, watching me. His face was stricken and his dark amber eyes were startling in his pale face. They were almost black instead of the brighter amber color I remembered. He looked exhausted and seemed in agony as much as I was.

Contrary to the evidence, that I was strapped to a bed in a dark room in excruciating pain that he was unable or unwilling to relieve, I did not fear the doctor or think that he was responsible for my agony. His presence calmed me immensely.

The burning pain was moving, slowly leaving my hands and feet but my heart was pounding fiercely in my chest. I wiggled my pain free fingers and hands and then my feet and toes hearing the restraints at my wrists and ankles but I didn't pull against them. My pain free limbs became virtually non-existent as my attention focused on the intense pain and the burning heat which seemed to be slowly retreating toward my chest.

Although the pain colored everything, I could finally use my senses. They were so incredibly sharp that even the pain couldn't keep me from realizing the difference. Everything was so vivid. My senses were gathering so much information it was overwhelming. My eyes captured every little thing, cracks in the wall plaster, lines in the wood and motes of dust in the air. I could smell coal, wood and oil and taste dirt in the air. I was able to hear the doctor's breathing; the clock on the wall ticking too slowly, the sound of wood creaking. The scratching of a beetle scurrying across the floor drew my eyes toward the sound. I didn't know much time went by as my eyes wandered distracted as the pain slowly retreated to where my body continued to incinerate.

'_Oh! It's happening - listen to that heart',_

I turned my head to see the doctor staring at my chest just as the fire became a concentrated firestorm and the pounding of my heart increased terrifyingly. Despite my own wailing scream I heard a low distressed moan coming from him. His eyes widened in disbelief as he reached out toward me but pulled his hand back like the fire had burned him too, his face a mask of anguish. I couldn't take my eyes off his; they were a reflection of what I was going through.

The internal inferno captured all of my attention and took my breath away interrupting my shriek. My heart was beating so fiercely that it felt as if it would leap as a fiery ball right out of my chest. My back arched from the intense pain as my hammering heart wrenched my chest upward away from the bed. I wanted to tear the burning organ out of my body and realized why he had tied me down. I rapidly gasped for air for the fire was burning up every breath leaving me none.

My fingers dug into the mattress and hands full of fabric, padding and wire ripped away from the bed. My trembling hands grasped again trying to hold onto the bed to keep the intense pain from jerking me into the ceiling. I felt the metal of the bedframe bend in my grip.

Through it all I could still see the doctor, the look of agony and terror on his face was frightening.

The whirling firestorm in my chest and the hammering of my heart raced toward a massive crescendo. With a last stab of piercing pain a wall-shaking scream ripped from my throat and abruptly cut off when my lungs were empty. In the sudden silence, the fire in my chest went out and my heart leapt once and came to a stop. My body fell lifelessly back to the bed - I didn't move - _am I dead?_

I was uncertain how I could have remained conscious through that torment. My heart did not resume beating. I no longer felt the horrible pain - just a tolerable burning ache in my throat and stomach. _How? Why am I still thinking?_

I could still see the doctor standing next to me watching my frozen face, his face also frozen - horror struck.

'_Move… please',_ he pleaded.

I blinked my eyes, opened my mouth and took a breath, thinking _is this right?_

He sighed and his face relaxed. He began to remove the restraints from my arms and legs.

'_It's done', _he said with another sigh. '_I wonder if the pain has stopped?'_ I could see his mouth wasn't moving but I could hear him.

"Yes," I replied taking another breath marveling at the flavors assaulting my tongue, savoring the lack of pain. "What's done?" I asked.

"What?" he asked confused. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he finished unlatching the last buckle.

"I've stopped burning, the awful pain is gone. What's done? Am I dead?" I asked still lying on the bed looking at him and everything beyond him. I was quite distracted my eyes jumping from one amazing thing to another.

"No, you're not…um…ended," he sighed, my eyes were drawn to his face. '_Now an explanation'…_ he said but his mouth didn't move, I noticed that oddity again.

"Yes explain, how do you do that?" I asked curiously looking into his dark amber eyes.

"Do what?" he asked and he narrowed his eyes staring at me.

"Talk without moving your mouth? You did it just before but you're not doing it right now."

"I'm not doing any…" '_he can hear but he doesn't know'_, he said thoughtfully nodding as his mouth stopped moving again and his face became optimistic.

_'Can you hear me now?'_ he said, his mouth moving only to smile. His eyebrow arched questioningly.

"Yes, I can hear you. How?" I asked confused by his smile.

His smile widened and suddenly I saw a vision of a man in very old-fashioned clothes with crimson eyes, dark hair and pale skin. He was smiling semi-friendly but threatening at the same time. It was almost like my own memory but knew it wasn't; it was more intense.

"What was that?" I squeaked in surprise and the vision disappeared. I sat up on the bed so quickly I was startled again. "What was _that_?" I echoed myself. "What has happened to me?"

'_I'm not doing it,' _he said_, 'you are. You are hearing my thoughts', _he said gently, slightly amused as I gaped at him not understanding.

"Where am I? What is happening?" I asked uncertainly. There were so many conflicting and crazy thoughts running through my head and my senses were so overloaded that it was hard to comprehend his words. I thought I might be going insane, nothing made sense.

"You are in my home." He looked at me intently and I stared back.

His dark amber-colored eyes were full of concern but friendly. Dr. Cullen was composed now, his earlier exhaustion apparently gone. He began explaining what he was and what I had become. I gasped at the word - _Vampire_.


	9. A New Reality

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

A NEW REALITY

Now I knew I was insane. This was crazy - snake bites in a hospital made more sense. His compassion and that word, _vampire_, didn't go together in my mind.

I suddenly looked down at my wrist and saw the whiter on white crescent mark of his bite. My leg where I had felt pain also showed the sign of his bite.

"I'm Doctor Carlisle Cullen, call me Carlisle, " he introduced himself. '_I'm really a doctor.' _He smiled.

I heard the truth in his words but I looked up at him more confused than ever. "Vampire?" I asked, stunned. It was hard to say the word but as I said it there was an acceptance that had to be part of the transformation. I was confused but I felt no horror at my alteration.

"Yes," he said calmly. '_You can hear my words. Do you see pictures?'_ he asked, staring at me, his eyes narrowing, cocking his head slightly.

I nodded uneasily. He had looked at my mother like that just before she died.

The vision jumped before my eyes. I gasped in surprise. It was almost like I was transported to another place but I could dimly see Dr. Cullen and the room I was in through the vision. Vividly and in minute detail I saw myself on the floor of my house, I looked like a nightmare. Blood, urine and sweat, but mostly blood, covered me from head to toe. At the time I knew I was really sick but I had to get to the door knowing that my parents could be dying, so I just forced myself to get to the door.

I reached up to my forehead and felt no wound or scar.

'_You were valiantly struggling to save your family. You had no idea I would be there at the door. You didn't ask for help for yourself, instead you immediately asked me to help your parents. Unfortunately it was too late'._

Seeing myself lying there in his memory I saw our awaiting death and I felt his compassion for us, especially me. He saw me - the essence of me - the goodness in me, sacrificing myself to get help for them. I wanted to cry for them but there were no tears.

A raw burning ran down my throat and a roaring impatience in my brain let me know I had a lot to learn.

"How did you get this way?" I asked curiously, swallowing against the burning in my throat. Now I knew I was…what?…dead? I didn't feel dead except that my heart was silent. Vampire ...undead?

He closed his eyes and concentrated thinking of his wounds and how he'd made mine match his. He thought of his hatred of what he'd become and how he fought against the thirst that pulled him toward the first human he smelled.

As he thought of the blood thirst _my_ thirst roared in frustration scorching my dry aching throat and the first taste of a tart fluid filled my mouth. The sensation startled me and I grasped at my neck. My hand moved so fast - my hand struck my throat hard - the sound was like two stones crashing together, shocked me. There was no pain but I cursed loudly staring down at my hand as I pulled it away from my throat. The thirst subsided somewhat with my shock and curiosity.

His eyes flew open and he took in my look of shock. '_I'm not explaining this very well',_ he thought ruefully.

"You will find that you move much faster, are extraordinarily strong and your body is almost indestructible. Touch things very carefully until you are sure of the pressure you need. You can pulverize stone and easily bend metal so be cautious," he said gently with a smile. His gaze flickered to the bedframe then back to me.

I remembered my struggle and glanced down at a gaping hole in the mattress and the severely mangled bedframe. It was worse than I had thought at the time.

"What is this fluid in my mouth?" I asked tasting the tart, not unpleasant flavor on my tongue.

"For lack of a better term - venom - it is what caused the pain _and the change. _It is part of you now. Although your body is virtually everlasting we are _not_ demons but we are '_other'_. Though the thirst will pull you toward them, I will not hurt humans so we will hunt animals. Let's get you something to calm that thirst," he said heartily.

As I moved from the bed eager to alleviate my painful thirst I was amazed at how fast I was and how easily I moved. Even thinking about dashing to the other side of the room, I was suddenly there bumping into the brick wall, brick dust flew into the air. It was almost instantaneous, it was frightening and exciting.

I wondered what it would be like to run now, I thought with a smile. The amusing thought shuffled the thirst to the background in my brain.

He chuckled watching me.

"Here put these on." He sat a stack of clothes on the end of the bed to exchange for the hospital nightshirt.

"I'll see you in a moment." He walked through the only door and closed it behind him.

As I stripped off the nightshirt I realized a small fraction of my strength. The material just disintegrated between my fingertips, turned to powder where I squeezed it.

I was amazed how my body had changed. My skin wasn't just pale now it was almost snow white. I had always had lean muscles but my body was rock hard. I hit my chest with my fist and again the sound was like smacking stones together.

I saw a mirror hanging on the wall by the door and wondered if I would see myself. Looking at my reflection proved that myth untrustworthy. I was thinner due to my illness, though I looked healthy enough now. My hair was the same; my face was very pale and a little more angular. My teeth were unchanged, like Carlisle I had no 'fangs', but I was horrified at the bright red color of my eyes and the dark bruising beneath them.

"My eyes! They're horrible," I yelled and winced quickly looking away. I pictured that other red eyed man the one from the doctor's mind, who had looked so threatening.

Carlisle heard me from wherever he was in the house.

"Peace. Calm yourself," he said out loud.

As I heard him I suddenly connected to his thoughts as he assured me that my eyes would change and be the amber color of his when I first met him. He didn't know how long it would take but maybe in a few months or so my eyes would be amber. No longer green like my mother's I had lost that part of her. Amber was better than the gruesome brilliant red that they were at present, I conceded.

Now that I had a connection to his mind I was fascinated as I listened to his thoughts and watched through his eyes. He stood in a room picking up items from a table and was wondering about his patients in the hospital.

I found that I could hear and see what was going through his mind at the time. I listen to his current thoughts and watched what he visualized or was seeing. He was able to think about quite a few things at the same time. He was wondering what was taking me so long because he was anticipating the hunt.

I could feel his thirst but it was very tame compared to mine. My throat began to burn again at the reminder. He was restless with anticipation and eager to take me, elk, bears and wolves in a forest. My throat blazed with a dry burning ache that clawed at me like a living thing that was desperately parched and it struggled with me. It wasn't an elk it thirsted for though and I shuddered.

_So much to learn_, I thought very concerned, but then I realized that I could recall everything he had told or shown me. I remembered every detail, the sound of his voice, the movement of his hands - everything. I could also recall the pain and gasped as I felt it again, I stopped that thought and it obediently withdrew, but readily available.

I searched my mind and I realized that my capacity was immense now. The thirst glowered at me from _its_ territory, _its_ own area of my mind. Right now it held much of my mind and attention but _it_ wanted it all. I was using a very small portion of my mind to think around _it,_ almost like thinking around the burning pain had been. My stubbornness and curiosity were formidable creatures and they held their own against the screaming thirst.

He didn't want the thirst to win and neither did I but I did need to dress and meet Carlisle even if that meant pleasing the thirst.

I quickly guessed that Carlisle was giving me some privacy so I dressed swiftly without tearing the fabric of the clothes - much.


	10. My Rare Gift

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

MY RARE GIFT

Edward's POV

Now dressed, I opened the door to exit the room finding that I was in the basement. It was still disconcerting seeing what was in front of me with an overlay of what Carlisle was seeing too. He had heard the door open and he stared at the stairs from above as I stared at them from below.

I raced up the stairs so fast that I ran through the wall twelve feet away from the top of the stairs. Plaster exploded into dust and wood lath and furniture shattered as I crashed through them like they were paper. I was amazed as I watched myself fly by through Carlisle's eyes. The plaster dust showered down over me and the rooms I'd just demolished. I was embarrassed that I couldn't control myself and cursed at my blunder. Though slowed I was still careening forward.

Carlisle started laughing at my surprised exclamation. I could see through his eyes, his laughter and amused thoughts made me feel better as I skidded to stop just inches from another wall.

He was at my side in an instant still laughing. We brushed the plaster out of my hair and off my clothes and I turned to view the damage I'd done.

"I guess I'll have to fix that. Sorry Doctor, um... Carlisle." I grimaced.

"We'll get it fixed it later, let's go, it will be dark for a few more hours," he said chuckling good-naturedly.

I looked down at my bare feet and then at him. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged.

"We don't really need them," he said and then pulled off his socks.

From almost dying, I had landed smack dab in the middle of a strange adventure. I didn't know how it would end but the beginning was starting out pretty interesting. Well…if you ignored the extremely painful part.

"Wait a minute, please. Before we go, how is it that I can read your mind? Can you read mine?" I asked curiously, I had caught an unusual phrase 'rare gift' in his mind.

"No, I cannot read your mind." He shook his head and looked at me appraisingly. "You should know that!"

"I think I do but I'm still not sure of anything," I admitted, shrugging with my whole body.

"We all gain the stonelike skin, the speed and strength, the possibility of a vastly extended life span and the ever-present thirst," he said. His mind told me of vampires thousands of years old, it was staggering. "But some, gain extraordinary mental control."

I wanted to know why he considered mine an uncommon gift. I really wanted to know what was going on inside me, the whole experience was overwhelming. In reaction to the delay the smoldering thirst inside my mind cranked up the burning in my throat and venom ran into my parched mouth. I swallowed the mouthful of venom, though it had no effect on my burning throat. At that moment my curiosity to learn more about what I was becoming was stronger than the damnable thirst.

I could think, thanks to Carlisle's calming mental presence, but I was nervous and reasonably startled by the whole thing. I had seen the vision of the crimson eyed man when Carlisle realized that I could hear his thoughts. But there were others in his mind too, that had other abilities. What could I expect? I wanted answers. I was having fun with all the super strong and fast part but …

"Edward, no two talents are exactly the same. So I cannot tell you how yours works, that will be your job to explore," he explained. He pictured the man in the earlier vision again. "Aro's similar talent requires physical contact to read a mind. Yours does not. What that means for you, I do not know."

"What is your talent?" I asked still curious. I knew the strength of his compassion and love was vast but I didn't know if he considered it a 'talent'.

"I don't have anything extraordinary about me." Carlisle shook his head. Then he paused and smiled reflectively, nodding.

"Except perhaps my stubbornness … some of our kind call it insanity. I refuse to bow to my thirst's desire for human blood. I will not indulge it. Period."

His resolve was absolute, his strength of will was incredible, and the beast in my mind hid from the resolve in his mind. I was awestruck. He hadn't swallowed a drop of my blood when he bit me. He tasted my blood on his tongue because there was no choice but he did not fall victim to the burning thirst.

"I accidentally discovered I could exist on animal blood while I was trying to starve myself to death."

_'By the way, starving to death is impossible though at the time I didn't know it', _he said, glibly chuckling, making light of his attempts at suicide. I saw tiny flashes of his other attempts and controlled a shiver.

I took it all in carefully. I found I could shuffle through each of the tiny flashes once they were in my mind and they became a much larger memory. It was frightening how much I could capture so quickly.

Should I let him know what I saw? He couldn't possibly know what I was seeing, how much he was revealing with those fleeting thoughts. I decided to wait. I didn't even know my capabilities.

Now I was really curious, could I hear anyone else?

"So I want to find out what I can do with this. Let me see if I can hear anyone else," I said hesitantly.

"No, you need to hunt," Carlisle said insistently.

"I want to find out about this first," I said stubbornly.

'_Hunt now'_, he thought at me but I shook my head. Carlisle sighed good-naturedly and indulged me.

_'You should be able to hear sounds from fairly far away as a normal part of what you are now.'_

I closed my eyes and listened. I heard Carlisle breathing, of course. I heard other verbal voices off in the distance, then I sort of pushed out toward where they were, and then there was more buzzing. I focused on them; they became clearer.

"I hear someone talking and something else." I tried to focus on a particular buzzing noise. "Maybe another household?"

Carlisle stayed silent and the beastly thirst stayed just on the edge of my mind, the burn no more present than it had been earlier when my curiosity sent it to the background.

_Three eggs and a cup of butter…_

Now another what? – vibration?... mind?

_Wake up boy you're going to get us into trouble._

Then another one, a different one…

"Wake up Randy!"

I think I heard that one with my ears. How far away was that? I wondered.

I adjusted my focus on the difference in the vibration or buzzing and a different 'voice' came through.

…_.hmmmm you're so pretty_… a girl's face appeared before me - a not so pretty girl at that.

My eyes opened wide and I staggered back in reaction to the sudden face before me; I felt Carlisle's hand steadying me.

"Are you all right?" he asked aloud.

"Yes - I think so," I replied. I closed my eyes again, still concentrating, focusing in a different direction.

Voices started crowding my mind, almost indistinguishable whether vocal or mental. In the middle of the night, I thought, how could so many people be awake, and then bizarre visions came to me as I began to focus on the different buzzing noises.

Focus - _I'm flying! Wheeeeee! … _The view of the ground was fuzzy and indistinct below.

Switch focus - _Where are you? - come and get me. _A blue goat with red horns ran up and butted the person hard in the stomach.

"OOF," I laughed. "Dreams? I can hear and see people's dreams?"

_'Oh my'_, Carlisle thought also amused.

Switch focus - nothing but blackness. No dreams there just sleep.

I was shocked and amused then my curiosity got the better of me as I tried to see what other dreams I could view. I pushed outward for more then as if I'd thrown a door wide open the buzzing voices were all pouring in. The sound became a roaring whine in my head and nothing made sense. Disjointed pictures and words slammed into my mind like boulders tumbling in murky floodwater and the mass of it was too much.

I opened my eyes in a panic turning to stare at Carlisle, hopeful that it would stop when I opened my eyes. I reached out for him with both hands but the roar intensified and I slammed my hands over my ears to no avail.

"Stop it! It's too much, too many. How do I stop it," I screamed at him, my face contorting in pain. I rocked back with the violent flow of noise into my mind. I knew if I didn't stop it, if I couldn't control it, I would be overwhelmed. I felt that my brain would explode at any moment.


	11. Two Minds are Better Than One

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

TWO MINDS ARE BETTER THAN ONE

Carlisle held on to my arms tightly as I shook my head trying to stop the noise.

"Stop it, how… do… I stop…"

"I'm not sure," he said thinking, his voice echoing my panic, '_it is easy when you can only hear the person whose hand you are holding_,' he thought. His mind was the loudest over the uncontrolled cacophony in my head. His pale forehead creased in anxiety for a fraction of a second, then his face lit up.

"Um - try this - concentrate on me and only me - focus here," he said and thought calmly at the same time pointing to his eyes.

I could hear him but only just, so I tried to focus on his eyes.

"Edward!" he yelled, startling me. Unexpectedly, he clapped his hands together right in front of my face. The surprising movement and resounding crash shocked me. It jarred me loose from the flood and helped me focus. I was able to push against the noises in my head.

He began to recite both verbally and mentally.

_The war has come for us my son _

_and I am not ready to let you go._

_The beating of drums, the sound of the pipes _

_are breaking both our hearts. _

_Your young heart yearns, _

_my old heart burns, _

_with thoughts of fallen enemies, _

_but to other yearning and burning hearts _

_we are the enemy. _

_Be careful my son as the war comes near _

_and the drums beat and the pipes sound, _

_so you will be the one left standing …_

I focused on the words of the old poem and the insistent voices faded, they were in the background like a roaring waterfall.

I could think now and I visualized a room in my mind and I shoved them into it, slamming the door on them. It was like a room filled with angry bees, they didn't stay contained completely but it was much better.

I continued to concentrate on his eyes as he continued to recite.

"Thank you," I said, interrupting him, and then cursed under my breath as the reality of my situation hit me. Now I had two monkeys on my back, the constant thirst yearning to be fed and the constant whine of voices yearning to be heard.

I was beginning to feel like I was in one of my more bizarre dreams.

Still reeling from my mind reading disaster, Carlisle led me through the house. I felt the link between our minds strengthen. One thing Carlisle had in abundance was control and I leaned heavily on his ability. It helped me to control the noise insistently intruding on my conscious thoughts.

We walked out the back door and I got my first glimpse of the world through my augmented eyes. Carlisle's home was one estate among a very few exclusive estates each on a long relatively narrow lot surrounded by acres of forest, on the river not too far from the lake, on the outskirts of Chicago.

My vampiric senses were heightened so much from my human ones that I was enthralled by the sight of the stars, the movement of the trees and the clouds, the smell of pines, fall leaves and cut grass and the sounds of squirrels, birds, insects, the water lapping at the shore of the river and the taste of…everything.

My sensory overload stunned me into inactivity, and for a few moments, also dulled the voices in my head.

I stood there totally preoccupied until a seductive fragrance broke into my reverie. It had to be the scent Carlisle's thoughts had warned me about. The scent stimulated a reaction that was so primitive and visceral my muscles tensed for the attack. A searing flame flashed, like putting lamp oil on a coal fire in the furnace. It scorched and burned the length of my parched throat. I groaned as I felt the first full rush of venom flowing into my mouth filling it and flowing down my throat. The venom didn't quench the thirst instead it left a desiccating burn.

Carlisle quickly grabbed me when I groaned and held onto me with an unyielding grip but from his mind I gleaned the secret knowledge that I could overcome him if I wanted. Was I was so much stronger than he?

"You _can_ resist it," he said simply but with conviction. I knew he could smell it too but it had little effect on him, so little that he barely acknowledged that it was there.

Although the closest estates were a quarter mile away, I could smell the humans whose minds I had recently struggled to silence. There were many people living in the surrounding estates, families, house servants, stable and garage workers, gardeners and uninvited guests living in abandoned outbuildings.

The thirst was a living thing inside me with its own mind like a separate entity but inextricably tied to me. It was beastly and monstrous in its need. So feral and strong it could easily control me. Carlisle's tight hold on me gave me just barely enough control to stand still and focus on his thoughts.

The beast roared hungrily in my head, it jerked and pulled me toward the scent, wild with thirst and desire. I growled with frustration in my attempt to fight it.

_You can resist it,_ Carlisle repeated in his head as he tightened his grip on my arms. "You can resist it. A simple statement of fact - it is resistible."

"I can resist it," I repeated meaninglessly but still actively struggled for control. I barely resisted the insanely intense conviction that just one taste would fill me and make me whole. I could hear them, _hear them,_ as well as smell and taste their scent and I knew the location of each and every one of them.

"How do you stand it?" I moaned with longing. Strangely my stubborn curiosity was greater than the thirst's desire so I was able to resist breaking away from him long enough to ask the question and listen for the answer. I asked the question to get access to Carlisle's mind. To help block out the other minds, my own thoughts and especially the beasts desire to override everything and plow through as many walls as it took to get to the seductive scent's promise of completion.

As soon as I asked the question his answer was there in his mind with all the extra nuances. The scent wasn't alluring to him at all - there was no temptation - there was no hesitation, nothing hidden in his thoughts – only the sureness that it belonged to a human whose life was precious and should not be wasted when other 'food' was available. The reverence he held for human life was astounding and gave me the strength to resist the pull of the enticing fragrance assaulting me.

"You _can_ resist it," he said again. "But," he added practically, "you can also hold your breath until we are in the forest"… _if you wish,_ he thought, and a sly grin broke out across his face.

I stopped breathing and the tempting scent was gone. I could still feel the lure but the urgency was gone. I smiled at him. Admittedly it was more of a grimace than a true smile but he smiled back and released my arms.


	12. Running With the Wind

RUNNING LIKE THE WIND

Carlisle pictured a forested area many miles away where we could hunt and startled me by practically disappearing when he started running, so I ran after him.

It was strange not to breathe and to think I no longer needed the air to survive. I was going to yell at Carlisle to wait but I found I couldn't for without air to push through my larynx I couldn't make a sound.

The call for Carlisle to wait was unnecessary though - I passed him in seconds. I was speed itself.

'_Enjoy the run! Wait for me here.' _He pictured a prominent natural feature as I passed him.

I gathered bearings and distance from his thoughts so I knew where I was headed. He also let me know there should be no human scent there but to be cautious. It was strange to know exactly where I was going as though I'd been there many times, especially since I had never been there before. I lifted my arm and waved my hand in reply to let him know I had gotten the message.

Carlisle had faith I would go into the forest. He _knew_ I could resist the temptation and the beastly thirst's desire.

I didn't know anything, I just ran.

At first I was running to escape the fragrance that was tempting me, also it was a futile attempt to escape the beast inside me, and then the true enjoyment of running swept over me.

I was running like the wind. It was pure pleasure. I forgot all about the scent and the thirst and just thrilled at the speed. The world flew by, I was long gone when startled animals reacted to me.

I first discovered how much I loved to run when my father took me to play baseball for the first time when I was about five years old. We had been at many games before but this was the first time he allowed me on the field. I didn't catch well and couldn't hit the ball yet but he had me run the bases. I was full of my fairy tale adventures then, stretching my legs to pull the ground under me, as if the earth revolved beneath me. What I didn't care for was slowing down to round the bases. I also didn't like to stop once I got started, so I'd never been a sprinter. Now I was silent as a ghost and almost invisible in my speed.

I could see everything around me and far ahead clearly. I didn't have to evade anything because my mind calculated exactly where to move to go as fast as I possibly could. I made a smooth path through the forest. I could respond to all obstacles ahead of time so not a tree limb touched me and the forest floor held no dangers or surprises. I saw everything.

I flexed my knee and pushed off to leap a small stream and felt like I was flying. I tried a second jump and soared into the branches of a large pine tree 150 feet away and landed 50 feet up the tree. I hit the tree's trunk so hard it snapped in two and the top of the tree tumbled away leaving me no hand holds. I hovered for a second, my bare toes lightly skimming over the shattered wood.

When I dove out of the tree it seemed I almost floated as I easily grabbed the branch of another tree and dropped to the ground. I landed so lightly it startled me.

I was in a constant state of amazement.

I took off running again but I had to restrain myself or I would lose track of Carlisle. He was still running but definitely not at my enthusiastic pace.

Suddenly I realized I could no longer hear his thoughts, his strong mental voice left me. I struggled for control over the beast knowing that I needed to reconnect with Carlisle to maintain command of my own body.

I was sure I had passed the area he showed me in his mind so I started curving back toward him. I found his mind again and control was easier, I mentally sighed as I again enjoyed just running.

I decided to try for a breath now that I was in the deep wilderness. I did miss the sense of smell and the taste on my tongue. I was still running but as fast and pulled air in through my nose carefully - slowly - ready to freeze the action if I had doubts about any scent, but there was none.

I drew in a deep breath. The multilayered odors were ambrosia and I was overwhelmed once again at the depth of the sensory overload.

I slid to a stop like sliding into home plate and plowed a deep furrow into the ancient forest floor. Leaf litter and loose soil flew around me covering me in a shower of dirt and debris. When I stopped my feet were a good two feet below the surface level of the ground. As I drew in another deep breath other less appealing smells were free to confound my mind.

I stood breathing slowly for many minutes; my brain desperately trying to catalog the scents filling my nose and tastes hitting my tongue. After brushing the dirt off of my shirt, leaves and debris out of my hair, I hopped out of the hole and landed forty feet away. I watched as surprised small animals and insects scattered like I'd lit the forest on fire. I laughed out loud and was astounded at the tone and volume of my voice. The forest echoed with the chime-like ring in my laughter.

This life or whatever this was - had some fantastic elements. I laughed again just to hear it echo.

I ran back toward the landmark where Carlisle would be waiting. I circled around instead of running straight back just to catch a few more miles of this joyous independence. Closing the distance I listened closely to his mind. He had heard my nearby laughter echoing in the forest. His worry faded and he laughed at my enthusiasm and was happy for me.

"I'm coming toward you," I called out to him, laughing again.

"I'm here," he called back, giving me even better information for finding him.

He was thrilled I had found joy in some parts of this new existence. He was concerned about me - not that I would run into anything I couldn't handle but that I wouldn't like what I'd become. I also sensed because of me, his life of simple contentment was now infused with a joyful fulfillment he hadn't known before.

I sensed there would be enjoyment in this new life. Carlisle was happy, lonely at times, but his life was fulfilling. Because of what he had been through I would benefit from all his knowledge. All I had to do was ask a question and the answer would appear in his mind along with added information he might not even know he was giving me.

I saw him in the distance and was unsure I could stop in time, so I decided to take evasive action. I was fifteen feet from him when I leapt into the air and jumped over him. I hit the ground, somersaulted, got up, turned and skipped to a stop a foot from him all in the flash of an eye. He was unsure how to react to my closeness and shied away. With a huge smile on my face I pulled him into a big bear hug. His mind gave me feedback and I could tell just how hard I was squeezing him. I didn't want to hurt him but I really wanted him to know I appreciated him.

'_Oh!_ _Oh my!'_ His shocked reaction turned to a pleased one, just what I was hoping for.

"Ow," he teased as my hug got a little too strong but still not painful.

"Sorry," I said grinning and let him go. I got the impression being hugged was a rare thing for him even when he was human. It sad because he was such a caring person.

"Thanks for not letting me die, Carlisle," I said. "Um, you know what I mean," I laughed, trying to keep the mood light but my emotions flavored the words anyway.

'_You're welcome', _he laughed a little embarrassed.

"I had fun. I love to run and that was… amazing. Let's get this hunt going. I think I'm hungry or thirsty or whatever it is I am," I chuckled his mood was affecting me too.

He laughed at me again but with warm emotion "I'm surprised you didn't find something already."

"I was too busy enjoying the run, the sights and the smells and… well, I was terribly distracted." I hedged, grinning. I looked down at my grimy shirt I lightly flicked a small beetle from my sleeve. It whizzed away like a bullet leaving holes in leaves as it passed through them. I also tore a hole in the sleeve.

"Oops," I grinned, poking my finger in the hole.

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head, grinning at my flippant apology. He was also enjoying our uncensored interaction. He was so used to monitoring his every word it was a huge relief for him to be so open with me.


	13. First Hunt

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

FIRST HUNT

"Right! What we came here for!"

Carlisle's mind focused on the hunt, and there I saw how to open my senses to the smells and sounds of possible prey around me. Standing next to him, I closed my eyes and opened my mind to let my senses roam. To my surprise the whine of other minds was gone. I had been so wrapped up in running and the other distractions that I hadn't noticed. I could only hear Carlisle's thoughts and my own.

This could be a real bonus – only one monkey on my back out here in the wilderness.

"I don't hear the other voices in my head. I guess I'm out of range. There's just you and me in here," I tapped my forehead, smiling, my eyes still closed. I tried to judge how far I had been from Carlisle when I discovered I could no longer hear him. I hadn't noticed when I lost the other minds but I had been keenly aware of my missing connection to Carlisle. Somehow my mind felt it needed the link, like my mother's hum had connected me to her, it connected me to him.

"That's good to know," he said a smile in his voice, still processing my show of gratitude. "If you get overwhelmed you can always get a few miles away from civilization."

I winced as he remembered my panicked face when the voices inundated me.

My parched throat clawed at me with fiery fingers now the thirst knew it was its turn to take the lead.

I tried to listen to the forest but Carlisle's mind was so open and the thirst was so impatient I had no choice because he had already identified several options. I ranged out with my senses and breathed in the smells. I followed his thoughts to a herd of elk. The thirsty beast wasn't happy. I heard the sound of heavy heart's pumping massive amounts of blood and the sounds were tempting but the smell wasn't very appetizing. The beast wasn't happy.

Then I followed the sound and scent trail to a bear and it smelled better. The beast was ready to run. I lurched at the pull from the thirst and pulled back uncertainly.

"I think I've got it - a bear about two miles that way," I opened my eyes and waved my hand in its general direction and looked over at Carlisle.

_Just let yourself go, let the scent lead you and the rest will follow,_ Carlisle nodded, surprised I hadn't already taken off.

I let my senses take over, suddenly Carlisle's mental control was irrelevant, the beast was running off toward the scent of the bear.

Then in the tiny area of my brain left to the reasoning part of me by the thirst I realized Carlisle hadn't followed. He didn't want me to feel threatened in anyway by him. He was only seconds away in any case.

I was in front of the bear in mere seconds myself.

My unfettered attack on the bear was savage. I knew it was my body but I wasn't in control. I/we/it tackled the bear and when the bear roared and attempted to fight back, I the beast, brutally tore flesh and crushed bones. The animal fell silent.

The attack didn't do fatal damage because when its/my/our teeth slashed the bear's throat the blood pulsed out with the rhythmic beating of its heart spraying across my face. When it/we/I finally got my mouth over the gushing flow at its neck, Ifelt both ecstasy and revulsion.

I eagerly gulped down every drop until the bear's heart stopped and then shocked myself even more by sucking down as much of the wet warm blood from the body as I could. But the flaming ache in my throat and stomach didn't ease. Not like I thought it would and the need was not satisfied.

I trembled inside my own mind, grateful to Carlisle that I wasn't treating a human like this but I was still shaken by my savagery. Yes, it was an animal and yes, I had eaten meat before but this … this was something else.

I was a revolting creature after my first kill covered in blood, fur, bits of flesh and I didn't get any better. I tried to fill the beast, tried to quench the fire. We stayed in the forest all day. The cloud cover was so heavy the day was like one long evening.

I hunted and fed until I was sick of blood but the ache was still there. I was disgusted with myself but the burn of the thirst was everything. Elk, deer, wolf or bear no matter the prey, the burn remained.

Carlisle was patient with me but marveled at my excess. I tried not to listen to his mind or mine for that matter. I just wanted to fill the beast.

I had basically cleared the forest for acres around, the prey either taken by me or scared off when I killed nearby. I finally sat on the ground in front of him groaning, so filled with blood it was painful. I could see through his eyes I was a horror to behold; there was probably as much blood on me as in me.

Carlisle took up his hunt then. He found an elk bull and his harem heading our direction, unaware they were entering the area of my killing zone.

Unfortunately his kill happened within my mind reading range. I was able to hear, see and feel Carlisle hunt. It too much for me as I felt what he felt even before the first surge of blood flowed down his throat - it set me off again.

I ran a mile in the opposite direction to catch a small doe.

I held it in my arms. Its struggling meant nothing to me. I didn't cripple the animal this time but just before I pulled the shivering animal's throat to my mouth I was able to stop. I was more in control now than the beast, he wasn't ravenous any more, this was just a reaction to Carlisle's hunt.

I let the deer go. She ran away very fast.

The act of letting the doe go unharmed gave _me_ great satisfaction. Somehow it let me feel more in control of myself. I remembered Carlisle's mantra _you can resist_, even this excess I could resist. I thought if I'm full enough I can let this animal go I might be able to control myself around people - when I'm full enough.

I ran back to join Carlisle. I moaned aching with the excess I had taken in.

I ran across his scent on the way and knew even if I couldn't hear him I would have been able to find him by following his scent. I trailed his path through the forest and found him. He was waiting back where we had started at pre-dawn morning.

"Let's go home. I'm full to bursting," I said.

Then I noticed several things at once. Carlisle's eyes were a golden honey color, he wasn't a gory mess like me and the burn in his throat was still there, much weaker but still present. He was satisfied with the feel of the burn; it was what he considered normal.

Then I realized the reason I couldn't quench the thirst was because I had been feeling Carlisle's also. I hadn't been able to separate the two thirsts. His thirst had burned listening to me feed, driving me to attempt to slake it as well. I was relieved to know the thirst probably wasn't as bad as I thought.

I looked at him amazed, he was relatively clean. The only stains on his clothing were from the second bear hug I bestowed on him. About my third kill the beast was relatively happy and Carlisle was nearby, he now wore the bloody imprint of my shirt.

Poor Carlisle, I'm glad I hadn't listened to his reaction to that hug.

I knew I needed to learn how he remained relatively stain free, I was hoping it wouldn't take me a hundred years to learn. I was a disgusting mess.


	14. Where Do We Go from Here?

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Carlisle took me back home a different route than the one we had used going out. We ran to the edge of the forest where it met a farming community. The buzzing insistent thoughts began crowding my mind again, the smell of forbidden blood was getting stronger, as we approached the outskirts of the Chicago suburban area.

He watched me carefully but the beastly thirst was relatively tame. I had gorged on so much blood I found I could disregard it. I honestly didn't know where the blood would go if I did attack someone.

Carlisle kept a running dialog in his head but it boiled down to telling me I could resist. Focusing on his thoughts helped me keep those other thoughts subdued to a 'big party in the next room' noise in my mind.

"You can clean yourself off in the lake," Carlisle suggested, cringing at my appearance and smell. I cringed at his observation of me too.

We ran together toward the lake, but a mile from the lake I speed off running ahead. Carlisle followed easily. When I reached the shore I stripped off my filthy, tattered clothing and waded out to wash away the gore caked on my skin and in my hair. It was a relief to rid myself of the stench.

I found another pleasure, swimming. I could swim as easily as running and almost as fast, so I swam. A couple miles out in the lake I lost all the mouthwatering scents and the voices were gone too. I found ice chunks floating in the water and broke them into slush amazed I couldn't feel the coldness of the water. I ran my hands over my smooth wet skin; I had no goose bumps or other normal physical effects from the icy cold water.

I wanted to stay out there for a while longer, but the edge of the dark sky was turning light gray. The cloud cover was thinning.

I heard Carlisle call out for me across the water.

"Edward, come home now." It wasn't a command it was an invitation.

I couldn't hear his mind this far out, but I could clearly hear his clear voice drifting across the water.

"Yes sir," I called back.

I don't know if he realized how much emphasis he has placed on the word 'home' but it sounded like heaven. Nuances I'd never heard in a voice were apparent in his. My mind was open trying to absorb all sensations around me as I swam. The lack of other distractions allowed my full mental capacity to analyze the quality of his words, the sentiment and passion they held. I felt like an adventurer returning to my beloved home from a prolonged and demanding ordeal.

_Almost home. _I thought happily, the invitation was irresistible. I swam toward shore knowing all the distracting noises and smells were there, but I headed toward Carlisle and his vision of home.

"Marco," I called out. I was over a mile from shore trying to get my bearings.

"Polo," he replied laughing.

Carlisle had stayed on the shore, while I swam, sure I could control myself so close to people. He could have reached me within seconds had I needed him. He strongly believed I would have come to him first if I'd been tempted.

Carlisle was standing shirtless on the shore, his pale skin and pale blond hair a white beacon in the pre-dawn light. As I waded through the shallow water I looked down at my own paleness. I felt like a phantom walking naked up to the shoreline. Though I looked human I was no longer human. I was beginning to understand I was in supernatural territory.

My imagination kicked in; _if someone saw me would they think I was the ghost of a drowned sailor? _I chuckled at myself.

Though modesty was the last thing on my mind, my first impulse was to cover up my nakedness. I had an overpowering feeling to remain true to my own values. Even with the unbelievable freedom becoming a vampire had given me, I was still me. Carlisle was reinforcing that feeling with his inner dialog. _Don't let the beast rule you, keep a tight hold on your personality and fundamental humanity. You can resist…._

There was nothing to wear though, everything was blood soaked including my underwear. The stench of dead blood was nauseating. There was no way I would put any of it back on my body. I 'saw' he wanted my torn and bloody clothes and his bloody shirt destroyed by mashing them into a pulp. I held my breath, grabbed them up, and waded back into the water. Minnows and other small fish gobbled up the clots of blood as they fell away from the fabric. Moments later I had reduced the hand full of clothing to meaningless fibers to spread inconspicuously in the lake.

_Clean clothes - second floor - first room – welcome to anything you like. _Carlisle thought at me turning to head toward the house. I raced ahead of Carlisle. I had no idea where I was but he knew the way home. The directions were vivid in his mind and I followed them.

I sped through the dark woods along the riverbank holding my breath just in case. I was so white I almost glowed in the dark, but I was so fast I was only a ghostly streak and it took only moments to reach the back door. I skidded to a stop before I smashed into the back porch. The ground was more compacted here than the forest floor and I only ripped up a few feet of grass.

I was upstairs before Carlisle reached the garden. I watched his return home through his eyes. Carlisle had more control and effortlessly slowed to a regular stride several yards before the porch. He chuckled at the shredded lawn as he happily entered the house.

He was so naturally poised I knew I had a lot to learn from him.

Freshly bathed (I didn't like the chemical and fishy smell of the lake water clinging to my body) comfortably dressed and feeling relatively civilized that pre-dawn morning I reentered in the room I had previously wrecked to discuss our situation. I knew we had to talk about what had happened to me and what we both expected now.

I stood in front of him, he too was comfortably clothed, and realized we looked each other directly in the eye. I made a show of looking around the otherwise well decorated room at the debris and the undamaged furnishings but only as a distraction, I was listening to what was going on in his head.

His earlier happy mood had disappeared; he was apprehensive now. His remarkable multi-tracked mind was hard at work. I could hear what he was thinking but I knew from personal experience you didn't always say out loud what you thought in your head. Besides he was thinking so many different scenarios then contradicting himself with others. It flowed so fast it was difficult to capture it all. I didn't know which one he was leaning toward.

One thing I knew for sure, he was glad I was here even though I'd smashed a five hundred year old chest into kindling scattering its expensive contents across the room.

My curiosity was burning now so I took a deep calming breath, out of habit, because it had no real effect and asked _the_ question.

'How? … What happened to me - to you? I sort of got the idea from you when I… uh… _woke up_ … but how did it? …how does it…?" I didn't know how to ask.

**AN: Do not be upset with me because you think Edward should be grieving, he will but right now he is so overwhelmed by all the distractions he doesn't have time to reflect - yet.**


	15. Vampire Mechanics

VAMPIRE 101

"The venom causes a change in the cells of the human body. How it works or what it is I don't know. I do know that not many of us exist, mainly because it is a rare and difficult thing to accomplish. Once a vampire tastes human blood the thirst is virtually uncontrollable and is so overwhelming that it is impossible to resist draining it all from the body, and death is the usual outcome.

"The venom enters through the bite and uses the blood stream to begin the transformation. The heart must remain beating to move it throughout the body. If the heart stops prematurely the process stops, again death is the outcome," He recited the words to me - almost like a lecture or as something he had been rehearsing. He was focusing on the words so I had no new insight into his extraordinary ability which prevented him from feeding on me.

"The venom is very painful, as you know. It is intended to render our victims unable to fight back. I went through it too - I know how painful it was for you," He added sounding more like himself now, his empathy was apparent in his thoughts, echoing his voice.

As he spoke I read his thoughts and he let me see more of how he had been made.

He was chasing down an ancient vampire. They were both running ahead of the crowd of parishioners. The vampire turned and attacked him. He bit at his throat and as Carlisle threw his arm up to protect himself the vampire bit his wrist. Carlisle fell to the ground writhing in pain. The vampire in his frenzied thirst attacked Carlisle again biting his leg instead of fleeing. Then two men from the crowd arrived and attacked the vampire. He attacked the men abandoning Carlisle then ran away, the crowd on his heels. The rest chased the vampire leaving Carlisle bleeding and writhing in pain on the street with a dead body. In fear of his father's parishioners he stumbled into a cellar to hide and then the vision stopped.

The memory was terrifying and as vivid as if it happened yesterday and yet it occurred far away and many years earlier. His sense of a distant time and place was plain. The pain he had felt, he suppressed perhaps for my benefit or maybe he just didn't want to relive it himself.

"I had been considering 'making' a companion for many years. Inflicting that horrible pain on anyone is really a difficult dilemma," he continued. Internally, he considered the act a very evil and selfish form of murder.

"It gets very lonely when you have to pack up and leave every few years so no one will notice you are not aging. Normal long term friendships aren't possible when you live as long as I have and as you will now.

"Other vampires are content with their existence and consider what I am doing madness. Thought I tried, converting one of them was no longer a dream of mine."

I saw flashes of amused friendly faces and of contemptuous cold faces, some with insulting taunts, and all with blood red eyes. His innate horror at what they were doing and his knowledge that they could survive without killing humans made him continue to try to convert them. Eventually but reluctantly he gave up and focused on his medical studies. He couldn't save their victims, but he could help others prolong their lives.

"I have to apologize to you Edward. Your body has been altered and will remain as it is now, you will no longer age. You will also have to endure the thirst. Though I assure you it will ease before too long and won't be so overpowering," Carlisle said pacing the floor glancing over at me. I heard the genuineness of his apologetic words echo in his mind. "I know you did not ask to have this done to you. Your mother's plea actually helped me resolve a dilemma I had for years."

"My mother?" As he said the words I got a glimpse of her desperate plea and his hope I would survive and relieve his loneliness. The emotion caught in my throat.

"I don't know how she knew I could help you, if you could call this being of help or if my imagination and her delirium came together to create a scenario pleasing to my struggling mind but the pieces all came together and I decided to take a chance." .

When he mentioned my mother, I could see her ailing face in his memory. I wondered what it was that made her think he could do this … to me … for me. There was nothing during our stay in the hospital that would have given her any idea he was unique or special.

I recalled my fuzzy memory of the pre-dawn morning when he had returned to find us so ill. At the time his appearance was so miraculous. I was confused from the fever and hitting my head and couldn't make much sense of the things happening around me. What made little sense then was apparent to me now. Even through my foggy human memory I knew the reason why my mother thought Carlisle was special. Carlisle had been impulsively careless. The blur of movement that I dismissed as wooziness was because he had moved too fast. He'd rushed to sit me up against the wall so he could close the bleeding gash on my head. I remembered opening my eyes and asking him to help my parents, seeing my mother's face scarcely peering around the doorframe upstairs. Her eyes widened with shocked amazement as she faded from my view seconds before I passed out. I had thought it was just my appearance that caused her reaction but not now.

She had seen him move faster than humanly possible. She knew he wasn't an ordinary human. What she thought he was I didn't know, but vampire wouldn't have been on the list, not with our fairytale ideas of a vampire. His concerned reaction to my bloody face kept that from being an option.

I thought I would always wonder what she thought he was but I pictured what it might have look like from her point of view. With my new mental capability the twist in viewpoint was so easy. In the darkness, Carlisle's pale face almost glowing in the dim light of the street lamp, kneeling over me, touching my head and healing me - it struck me. We were the living enactment of her favorite painting. I visualized the painting that hung in her room all my life - the radiant, young, beautiful blonde man kneeling beside a bed in a darkened room, his glowing hand resting lightly on the head of a sick child.

My mother had thought he was an angel.

All of these thoughts went through my head in a fraction of a second.

"I was impressed with your love, devotion and compassion for your parents. I know I wouldn't have considered your mother's plea for a second if you had been any less than you are.

"The transformation doesn't make you evil. You are still _you_ although the thirst's craving is an inherent problem. Because you are a brave, kind and loving young man I thought perhaps you could become like me and not take human life to survive. It may sound callous but you were dying anyway the worst thing I could do was make it an hour or so sooner," Carlisle continued unaware of my insight.

"I would like to be your friend and mentor. I am offering you a permanent home with me… (_my son, _he thought fondly) like brothers. There is much I can share with you not just the long term companionship of another vampire." He stopped talking and smiled apologetically at me waiting for a reply or questions.

I smiled back acknowledging his apology. He didn't know I could hear his every thought. It wouldn't help to tell him either, no one could stop their mind's spontaneous or random thoughts.

Our three days of 'laboring' together bringing me into this second life gave him a sense of commitment and responsibility for me. He really thought of me as his son not a brother. No matter where I went or even if I never saw him again, I was _his_ _son –_ forever.

I was startled but I felt it when he felt it - he loved me. It had been nebulous, but now that he truly thought of me as his son, it coalesced. It was an astoundingly firm, unconditional and unbreakable love, so much more powerful than my own experience with love. Many times greater than the intense but feeble human love I had for my mother.

My mind accepted the gift gratefully and it was humbling. There was nothing I could do but love my new father and mentor in return. My throat closed up overcome with emotion, and if I'd had tears they would have filled my eyes. Our hearts may no longer beat but we couldn't be truly dead, not with emotions like these. I didn't know what we had become except we were profoundly changed yet… somehow the same.

I didn't know what to say. I doubt I could have gotten a word out anyway, my throat remained closed.


	16. A Mother's Legacy

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

A MOTHER'S LEGACY

My mother, bless her – she had foreshadowed this for me. Just as I could hear her mental hum, she had a knack for giving me a notion or image of some event before it happened. Although, I could hear her hum all the time her knack was elusive, subtle and infrequent. My hazy human memories came up with two probable instances of her clairvoyant notion sending me information about Carlisle. First, thinking he was probably a great father when we first met, and second, my impression that my father was next to her in the hospital when it had plainly been Dr. Cullen standing there. I was sure she put those thoughts and feelings into my head.

She knew she was dying and this or something like it would happen. She wanted me to know it was okay, and she knew it would work out. She may have even done something similar to Carlisle; it wasn't past her to at least attempt to make sure 'the angel' took care of me. He said her request made all the difference but I think it was probably more than that. Someday he might think of it, that subtle little thing she showed him which tipped him over the edge and then I would know.

Maybe he was mother's idea of an angel. Not quite what she would have expected but love this intense was a gift she would appreciate and… I wasn't in my grave which was her other concern. He wasn't an angel and I was no longer human, still she said to do all within his power and he had done as she asked.

I knew why he had said brothers instead of son, as he had thought, for several reasons. We were not far apart in apparent age and we were now of the same unique breed, two of a kind. If I stayed then it would be the two of us leaving together every few years so no one would notice we weren't aging. I found I liked the idea of being his a traveling companion.

He didn't look old enough to be my father but he definitely thought of me in those terms. His venom had fathered my transformation. He didn't want to use father to verbally describe his feelings toward me though it meant something very special to him. He was afraid I would reject the term since he believed, and rightly so that I'd loved my father.

My insights into Carlisle's mind were growing more and more invasive and made me uncomfortable. Unlike the voices of others I kept to some extent at bay there was no way to stop the information running through his mind from reaching mine.

Another of his multi-track thoughts hit me; a flicker of me attending Harvard then Yale flashed and it intrigued me. He was very rich and definitely willing to share. I liked that very much too.

He watched the play of emotions on my face. I was smiling now, but he was beginning to worry when I didn't reply even though it had been only a few moments.

He took a deep breath tasting the air. He was used to getting information from his patients that way but it didn't work on me. Somehow he expected a negative response. He was more convinced of it now since I hadn't answered. His distress didn't show on his face. He was concealing it well but I was very aware of it.

"If you decide to go your own way I will understand. I just want you to know my home will be available to you anytime you need one," he said calmly, trying to hide his unease.

I opened my mouth to talk but he held up his hand to stop me. He suddenly thought of significant information to pass on.

"I need to let you know about the few rules that do exist for us," he said matter-of-factly, bracing himself for my rejection. He was unaware of the progress our relationship had been taking inside my brain.

"There are rules for vampires?" I asked curious but skeptical.

"Yes. Not many, but do not take them lightly," he said fervently, letting me know there were actual consequences for not complying, the menacing face of the man with blood red eyes, Aro, flashed for a split second. "Don't leave bodies to be found. Dispose of the body or render the wounds indistinguishable from an animal attack.

"I usually don't have to worry about that one, neither do you, so far," he said with a half smile and an eyebrow lift. I grimaced, his reference was obvious, I was a savage animal.

"Destroy evidence. Don't leave any trace of your unusual actions behind," he continued serious again.

"Keep our existence secret from humans. Don't stand still too long, don't move too fast or use your strength obviously and don't go out in bright or full sunlight."

A vivid vision followed that statement, of a faceted glint reflecting off his face as he saw himself in a mirror. The sun was shining brightly and all of his exposed skin sparkled in the sunlight like a diamonds.

"Goodness," I gasped, startled yet again and he smiled. I wondered if I would look similar in the sunlight.

"If someone gets too curious it is best to leave the area than to be found out. Though your talent of knowing what someone thinks is a real asset. You would know if they were on the right track or just curious."

"That's it," he said struggling to keep his face neutral.

He watched my face eager for my words but dreading rejection. I could 'hear' and 'feel' how very much he wanted me to stay.

I thought about what he said for a second, though it seemed like a long time to him. I knew I could go and it wouldn't change how he felt about me or I felt about him, yet I didn't want to be without a father. I was only seventeen, and I knew I still had plenty to learn when I was human. Now I had to basically start over again because I knew nothing about being what I had become.

My mother had trusted in him perhaps for the wrong reasons, or maybe she knew something we didn't. He hadn't turned me into an evil demon just a potential monster. The rest was up to me and with his help and guidance I could resist being the monster. I could fight the darker aspect of my new nature and stay sane. Mother felt I needed his fatherly assistance so I decided to stay.

"I don't know anything about this new existence yet," I said seriously. "I need to determine what I want to do with my life, but I don't know enough. I will definitely need your help learning how to permanently redirect this complicated thirst problem. I'll also need assistance mastering my mind reading talent.

"I don't know anything about anything so I would like to stay with you," I said smiling. "I would very much like to be your friend."

_I would love to be your son,_ I thought, knowing there were some things that I needed to keep to myself at least for a while. Even if mother had hinted it to him, he wasn't comfortable verbally using that term for our relationship. I would let our new life together evolve and see how it went.

His silent _thank you_ was like a prayer and his face widened into a triumphant smile. His emotions swelled and I tried to suppress their immediate effect on me but I couldn't because mine were already shaky. I stepped forward, reached out and hugged him. Not a big bear hug of enthusiasm but a heartfelt hug of family. He hugged me back, timidly. It was vastly unfamiliar to him but he felt he could get use to it.

I chuckled at his thought and stepped back. He looked at me questioningly; he obviously still didn't know how much of his mind I could read.

"Thank you," I said and shrugged, smiling at him.

"I have to insist we refrain from taking human life. I know it may be impossible for you to not slip up once or twice," he said with a serious face but I could see the gleam of happiness seeping through. "If it happens we will deal with it and try again. I think you know how I feel about my way of life." He smiled unable to keep his joy from breaking free.

"I'll do my best," I said grinning as the thirsty beast growled angrily.


	17. Other Realities

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

OTHER REALITIES

Carlisle would no longer be lonely and I could run like the wind. I laughed to myself, he got a dependant and I just got my Peter Pan license to never grow up.

CPOV

Edward was staying. I was extremely happy, excited and nervous all at the same time. My life had just changed immensely and for the first time I had a true companion, no secrets.

I almost couldn't believe it. It was incredibly wonderful to hear him say he wanted to be friends and reside with me. I knew I needed some time to process all of this. The last five days had been both extremely exciting and unpleasantly arduous. My emotions were flying and so were his but we had other things to discuss now. The world couldn't wait while we wallowed in our happiness.

We straddled the line between the real world and what humans called fantasy. It can be intoxicating existing in that 'real' fantasy world. I had seen how they, the deadly vampires, exist there but you had to be one to really appreciate it. It was a very lonely and dangerous world. I have tried to maintain my past humanity the best I could and I needed to stress that to Edward. We may not be human any longer, but we were certainly going to act as if we were, the emphasis on _act_. It takes effort living in their world and not letting ours become apparent, but I believe it gives me an existence worth existing for. I wanted to pass that belief on to Edward.

"Now back to the real world," I sighed, unhappy that I needed to drag us back to reality with such a subject. "I dislike bringing this up but we need to deal with it. Your parents are dead and certain things need to be taken care of."

"Oh! Oh yes," he said the grin falling from his face. He obviously felt terrible for being so self-absorbed. I couldn't blame him; I had just altered him and his view of the world drastically. The traumatic events he had just been through sort of wiped these additional traumatic and important facts from his mind.

His face clouded over with sadness. I tried to remember his parents' faces but I had only seen them when they were very ill or dead. I decided picturing them that way wouldn't help him at all so I emptied my mind of those thoughts and focused on the tasks ahead.

"I took the initiative of having them taken to a respectable funeral home. We can make arrangements over the telephone and get things set up for a funeral." _Of course you won't be able to attend. _I pictured his brooding pale face in front of me focusing on his blood red eyes. I saw him wince in reaction to the vision.

"But there probably won't be many attending anyway," I added trying to relieve his possible anxiety of missing some imagined reunion.

"Why is that?" he asked curtly. He seemed insulted that I would think his parents' family and friends wouldn't go to their funeral.

"The influenza is at pandemic levels. Thousands are sick and dying here in the city and all over the country. The hospitals and cemeteries are filling up. People aren't going out much," I said getting to the point instead of trying to imagine his wishes.

"I didn't know," he said glumly.

"Things are getting awfully dire out there. I had someone check on your house every day during your - ah - alteration. There are looters about in the city and when they hear about deaths or illness of entire families they case the homes. If there is no activity they will ransack the place."

"NO! No… no…" He was horrified by the thought of looters in his home.

"It's all right, don't worry," I said trying to calm him. "Although I couldn't risk leaving you alone for more than a few minutes, I made several telephone calls and set things up. I knew that this would be important to you at some point. I had a reliable man check on your home. His coming and going made it seem like there was someone still there, so your things are safe. He would have let me know if there had been a break in."

_I assume that there are things in your family's home you would like to have with you? _I asked him with only my thoughts.

"Yes, oh yes, there are many things I would rather not be stolen. I know mother had some beautiful jewelry and my father had… I would like to have … my books and…" His unfocused eyes flashed left and right like he was doing a rapid inventory of his house.

I smiled, the boy amazed me he was so quick. He didn't care or even notice how I spoke to him, mentally or verbally, he heard it. I wondered if I had to think at him for him to hear me.

"Yes that would be wonderful if I could have some of my own things," he said nodding his head and then a sly grin flashed across his face and quickly disappeared. A human would have never seen that grin it came and went so fast.

"It would be too difficult for you, going into the city this early. We could keep up the pretense for a while until we are sure you can control yourself. We can hire a full time caretaker to live in the house, especially if you remain living with me. Maybe in a few months if you want to try going, without breathing of course, you could pack up what you want. Don't try to test yourself and take a breath in the city. It wouldn't be pretty."

As I spoke of breathing in city air Edward's body tensed. His eyes went wild and he began breathing rapidly. He knew what filled the air in the city. In my own memory I could see the heart of the city with all those people crammed together. I knew Edward could already imagine the intensity of the smell of the one thing that his newly acquired thirst craved – human blood. His jaw snapped shut and hands suddenly clenched into fists but otherwise he didn't move.

The thirst for human blood would always be with him. He would continue to suffer unless he could find an emotional well deep enough to keep it restrained as I had. I knew I was unique to my kind. He didn't have my strength of conviction. His mind reading talent was a blessing for him because he could tap into my strength and use it to strengthen himself. He'd already proven to me his ability to do that. It had taken me over two centuries to perfect it and he could access it. We would have to find his individual strength so he could continue to exist without the agony he struggled with now. How long would it take him I wondered?

He was truly good and so strong willed, so much stronger than he knew. I'd seen newborn vampires and he acted nothing like them. They were totally out of control. If they'd had his knowledge of the city they would have been speeding their way there, while here he stood only grimacing over the thought of human blood. Maybe the key to his restraint would be that goodness and strength of will.

"Practice breathing and resisting here," I continued. "It's a more convenient place where I won't have to tear off your legs and drag you home to put you back together again," I said to shock him, concerned where his thirsty thoughts had most probably hauled him.

That pulled his attention back from its wandering.

"What?" He laughed nervously, again I'd surprised him.

I _showed_ him parts of a vampire dismemberment I had seen. His face first went blank with shock at first as he watched the scene unfold in my mind. He twitched and flinched at the unique squealing sound of vampire flesh ripping as another vampire tore his vampire victim apart. He gasped when the pieces placed next to each other were drawn slowly back together by oozing threads of venom until the vampire was together enough to reach out, spit venom on the ripped ends and replace the rest of his limbs. His eyes widen in disbelief as I visualized the same vampire as he later got up and walked away.

When the vision ended he stood there eyes wide gaping at me. "You are joking with me. We can survive that?" he murmured both horrified and impressed.

I nodded my head, grinning grimly.

"There are few ways we can be destroyed. Being dismembered is painful by the way but won't destroy you. It takes a vampire to do that to another vampire, nothing else has the strength and it is still difficult. If you are dismembered and the pieces are burned you will not come back." I shuddered, in my mind a vision of black pungent smoke filling the sky. He shuddered as well.

"I would _never_ hurt you like that, ever." I shook my head reinforcing my denial. "We will deal with anything that happens, together as a family. I guess my best advice is, for now, do what I tell you and if I tell you not to breathe, _do__not__breathe_."

His eyes were wide from the frightful visions but he heard me both mentally and verbally. He nodded his head with complete understanding.


	18. Mirrors

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

MIRRORS

Edward's POV

"There are four bedrooms upstairs; choose the one you want. If you haven't noticed yet that you're not tired don't worry, you will never sleep again. It's a vampire trait," Carlisle said, continuing to rain more vampire information down on me.

If I didn't sleep or get sleepy I guess I'd just have to take time to just sit and think. I had more than plenty to think about. My mother and father were gone, my former life was lost to me, my future was strange and unclear. Grief engulfed me and my throat knotted as I thought of funerals to prepare, belongings to safeguard and retrieve. I was uncomfortably full and my new body was wanting to refuse the overly generous bloody sacrifice I had forced into it. I began to feel miserable that I had survived, even at this cost. _Mother, why had you asked for me to become this?_

"There are the normal furnishings of a bedroom in each room; the beds were there when I bought the house. Move the bed or leave it, it's totally up to you." He smiled gently and gestured toward the stairs. "It's not really a bedroom as such but a place to keep your things. It will be your room to read a book, indulge a hobby or to rest your mind. Besides it's nice to have your own space to think over things. Go get settled in. We will take care of business a little later in the day."

It was almost as if he could read my mind but I knew it was my expression he was reading.

He walked to a desk, sat down and started reading the open book laying there. He brushed away some plaster dust from the page and chuckled but didn't look up. It was easy to ignore the dry material Carlisle was reading. I didn't understand why he found it interesting but he did.

Now I started thinking about my situation objectively, I had just heard some gruesome, sad and terrible things. I could go or stay. I had access to Carlisle's money and several lifetimes to do the things I wanted to do. I didn't have to worry about anything.

As a seventeen year old I knew this was heaven. I could run down the road, go to the city and be a monster. I didn't need anything, except bl… and I shivered. I didn't want to think of the only thing I needed, at least not right at this moment.

I wouldn't be a monster. I'd made a different choice. I still had restrictions but they were bizarrely different from my old life. I meandered slowly away from Carlisle and wandered up the stairs mumbling to myself. He couldn't see me from his vantage point but he could hear me and he chuckled.

Someone said my name. I stopped on the stairs and turned my head toward where I thought I'd heard it. It wasn't Carlisle. It was the estate to the west of Carlisle's, someone named Edward had just arrived. I tried to ignore it but as they repeated the name I was compelled to turn my head toward the speaker. It was irritating. The distraction slightly diminished my melancholy mood. Once I acknowledged that it wasn't me they were speaking to I was able to ignore the rest. I tried to keep it in perspective, at least I didn't have to listen to every voice in the room of bees in my head.

At the top of the stairs, I looked around and thought I would randomly choose a room to be mine. Carlisle had the first room or at least that was where his clothes were so I passed it by. But as I was going from room to room looking there was only one that filled my wishes.

I rejected the first two rooms because their windows faced toward other houses. I didn't want another reminder of the temptations each time I looked out the window, the faint scent wafting through the open windows and the constant voices were bad enough.

_My_ room was at the end of the hall, it had a very large window which framed only the forested 'backyard', a view of a slice of the river and the lake beyond, no human habitats anywhere.

It also had a large partially filled bookcase; my books when I got them would fit in it very nicely. There was a large bed and a dresser with a mirror on one side with the bookcase. On the other side was a large chest of drawers, a desk with a stool and two overstuffed chairs. The papered walls were a bland non-color and the thick drapes were the same blah color. The center of the very large room was open and on the floor in shades of blue was a wonderfully woven round rug at least 10 feet in diameter and for a long moment the detailed pattern captured my eyes.

Downstairs Carlisle had given up reading unable to concentrate with all the debris calling to him. He got up and was combing through the rubble collecting and cataloguing his undamaged treasures as he found them and sighing when he found a destroyed one. He expected me to come down later and sweep up the rubble.

I took a handful of books off the shelf meaning to shuffle through them but instead stood at the window looking at the beautiful view. Marveling at everything I could see and hear, I was ignoring what I could smell in the soft breeze blowing through the open window. I caught a glimpse of the book on top of the stack in my hands, _Frankenstein_ by Mary Shelley. I remembered my years playing my own creation: the monster or creator game. It was only a few months ago that I'd stopped playing it - a lifetime ago.

One afternoon when I was 13 after reading _Frankenstein_ I sat in the dark in a cold corner of the basement trying to imagine what it would be like to be the monster. It captivated me so much I spent the next weekend in two ways; first in the basement darkness being the newly awakened monster trying to understand his confusion and pain. How I would feel with this new strange life given to me. Would I have a soul? Would I love or hate my creator or even care? Would I ever die? Would I be an evil unthinking monster or a sane wretched monstrosity?

Secondly in the bright and sunlit attic I was the doctor. How I would feel if I were able to give life to a lifeless corpse. Would I care about my creation or would it terrify me? Would I lose my soul for performing the deed? Would the whole process drive me crazy or was I crazy in the first place?

I played this mental game many times over the years; sometimes as the monster I killed my creator or as the creator I killed the monster. Sometimes they both went crazy and killed each other or got together and killed everyone else. Most times they went on their own way and did whatever I dreamed up at the time. When I was bored I would arbitrarily make a choice to be the monster or creator.

The older I got the more it bothered me which one I would be because I wanted aspects of each. So the game became me being the monster/creator combination; I was a self-made monster. Was I good or insane or immoral? Whichever I chose, I would lose my soul and that was a bad thing. Just after I turned 16, I lost interest and stopped playing the game.

Now I _was_ a monster or was I? I pondered the question. That a monster lived inside me I had no doubt. I could feel it grumble, it was almost inactive now but only because I still sloshed with blood. Because of Carlisle I understood I didn't have to be the unthinking monster. I could be a sane monster hidden in the guise of a reserved teenager. I wasn't the ugly brute of the story; I was a handsome monster.

But my soul…?

The sun suddenly appeared from behind the clouds directly in front of me and the morning autumn sunlight bathed me in its yellow/pink radiance. Where the sun's rays hit the back of my hand it glittered. My eyes were drawn back to the open window as the full sunlight reflecting off me made a double mirror of the two sheets of glass. I could see my exposed skin sparkle from my images in the window. My eyes wandered as the walls, floor and ceiling were dotted with hundreds of tiny rainbows moving as I moved.

What I thought I would feel seeing myself glisten for the first time was nothing compared to the wonder of my alienness. I dropped the books on the floor and pulled opened my shirt, popping all the buttons off, to get a better view of the shimmering glint in my reflection and to create more rainbows.

My skin was a dazzling display of iridescent colors and rainbows erupted everywhere. I threw off my shirt and spun around in the bright sunlight pouring through the window watching thousands of tiny rainbows scatter and whirl around the room. A silly giggle erupted from my lips.

I turned my head toward where someone was calling the name Edward again and saw that the dresser mirror was scattering the rainbows further - I moved closer and saw myself clearly in the mirror glass. I had just been thinking of myself as a handsome monster when the sun burst upon me. I was astounded and stunned breathless at the sight of my new body glittering in the sunlight.

I was … beautiful.

_Edward, you're being absurd. _I laughed at myself as I continued staring at my dazzling reflection.

Still I couldn't contain my curiosity and fascination with sun's effect on my skin. I spun around again amazed and mesmerized at the effect watching rainbows spin around the room. Catching glimpses of myself glowing in the window and the dresser mirror as I spun around, I laughed again.

My curiosity however was still unsatisfied. I raised my arm to my face to get a look at the source of the dazzling display. Even with my augmented vision I couldn't see what was going on under the paleness of my stony skin. In the sunlight the glare was too much to see anything, but without it my skin looked white, smooth and chalky.

Carlisle was curious about what I was laughing at but didn't think he should intrude. I was glad he didn't since I had just ruined another shirt.


	19. The Doctor's Acting Lessons

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

THE DOCTOR'S ACTING LESSONS

The telephone rang downstairs and Carlisle answered it on the second ring.

"Hello … this is he … no I am still ill." Carlisle's voice was rough and unlike his usual fluid tone. I was confused. I couldn't 'hear' any reason from him or the caller that would cause the change in his voice.

I picked up the books from the floor and shoved them back on their shelf. I hurriedly shrugged on my shirt as I left my room. I stood at the top of the stairs arms across my chest in a juvenile attempt to hide my lack of buttons, listening. Though I knew I would have heard the conversation just fine where I had been, I moved closer more out of habit than need. I was curious and I wanted to _see_ Carlisle.

The only telephone was located on a table in the main hall between the parlor door and the dining room door. I could see him from where I stood.

He looked up at me and smiled while listening to the caller.

_Do I sound sick?_ He asked.

I nodded frowning.

_Good_, he smiled wider. He continued to answer the caller with a rough raspy voice.

"Oh, I must have been sleeping at that time. … Thank you but I am improving as well as can be expected. … I appreciate your concern but … No … I have someone here to assist me. … Yes … I will let you know … Yes … Thank you for calling."

He hung up the earpiece and laughed looking up the stairs at me.

"What was that all about?" I asked from the top of the stairs, still confused though I had heard both parts of the conversation.

"I had to have an excuse to be away from the hospital for a while," _obviously I couldn't work and leave you here by yourself. I told them I was ill, _he said starting off verbally and changing to mentally answering my question. I was surprised, watching his face when his mouth stopped moving but the words continued coming, it didn't matter to me or him which way he used to speak to me.

"How long are you going to be ill?" I asked amused.

_I'm not sure, you never know with these things. _He thought drolly. He wasn't in any hurry to leave me, he was certain my 'education' could take awhile.

I laughed.

"Why do you do it? I mean, why did you become a doctor?" I was curious, as usual.

"It gives me pleasure. I am happy doing the work and if I can save someone from a premature death, it is worth it," he said doing his best not to think of any particular incident, but he brought up the subject of premature death and I was curious.

"Are you going to change anyone else?" I asked still curious. I was pretty sure he wouldn't but I wanted to hear him think about it.

"No, you are the first and the last. It was a very difficult decision, I'm glad it worked out the way it did," he said honestly. "But this is a very hard life I've chosen, pretending to be human and not feeding on them.

"Part of living with humans is acting," he said in his semi-lecture mode. "You have a role to play. You will automatically draw humans to you but they will also wary of you. It is part of their nature. They don't even realize they are doing it.

"You have to mimic their little movements so you won't seem strange. You have to learn to fidget and blink. You did it involuntarily when you were human but it doesn't come naturally to you now. If you are too still they will notice.

"You are not aware that you haven't moved an inch or twitched an eyelash standing there listening to me. Hmm? No? See, you will need to practice."

I _hadn't_ noticed, so I started noticing myself not move. I was perfectly content to stand here not moving, not blinking, not breathing. I shifted my weight, took a breath and blinked, smiling down at him. He watched me, laughed once and shook his head before he continued.

"You have to go home from work or school to pretend to sleep. No one is always healthy, especially if you work in a hospital.

"There are things you can do that will make people even more _un_comfortable like showing your teeth. Smiling without showing your teeth helps reduce their stress around you. I will teach you things like that before you go out there and interact with them."

"What's so scary about my teeth?" I asked confused, after all I had no 'vampire fangs' like the fairy tales described.

"Go look in the mirror," He replied chuckling. _Although you won't get the full effect that they do._

_Go change your shirt, Edward. I heard the buttons hit the wall. _He walked away shaking his head still chuckling.

He probably doesn't miss much_,_ I thought and sighed. I watched as he disappeared into the parlor to finish his treasure finding and debris sorting.

I walked into his room and pulled a new shirt from his dresser. I changed in my room throwing the button-less one into an empty drawer in the chest of drawers.

I stood in front of the mirror smiling, not showing my teeth.

I looked acceptable, well, maybe a little scary, a very pale young man with bright red eyes. The sun was behind the heavy clouds again so I didn't glow. I smiled showing my teeth. They looked sharp and mean. With the addition of my red eyes they made me appear cruel as if I wasn't smiling at all. It was amazing that just showing my teeth could do that.

I guess I still had enough human reaction in me to see it. Just like I could see that I _was_ beautiful, even without the sun shining on my skin, I could see it now. I wasn't a handsome monster – I was a beautiful monster so much better to lure my prey. I shuddered, as I practiced smiling without exposing my teeth, pretending my eyes were a golden amber.I made amends by cleaning up the debris from my inexperienced dash up the stairs the day before. He had retrieved all of his undamaged treasures from the mess, leaving only shattered furniture, broken glass, splintered wood and wall plaster dust.

When Carlisle noticed I kept jerking my head toward the west while sweeping up and removing debris from the parlor, I explained about the man named Edward visiting the neighbors to the west and my inability to ignore someone saying or thinking my name. In my head, it was all the same, every thought, whispered or spoken 'Edward' was a demand for me to react. He was concerned but not overly so. Since I was still unfamiliar with the extent of my talent, he was fairly confident that at some point in the future I might be able to block or ignore it.

That afternoon he telephoned the funeral home to make the final arrangements for my parents' funeral. Carlisle had called them three days earlier when I survived my first twenty-four hours of the transformation. He arranged for them to pick up their bodies from the hospital. At that point, if I survived the process I would need to give my former life a proper ending, otherwise he would have buried us together.


	20. Funeral

FUNERAL ARRANGEMENTS

The funeral home only needed some information for the newspaper obituary and interment service. Carlisle thanked them for their diligence and that he would telephone them with the relevant details shortly.

"How am I going to pay for this?" I asked worried about a proper ceremony. My father, because of his position at the law firm, was not an inconsequential person and my mother was well known and loved.

"I'm taking care of it. It will be done properly and elegantly as befitting their place in society," he answered.

"I'll pay you back somehow," I replied, relieved at his reply.

"It's not necessary - but if your inclination is to repay the debt, I will accept. Don't be concerned about it now. Your parents probably left wills so we will have to deal with all that also. You will have to have a guardian since you're not twenty-one. How are we going to handle that?" he asked. Leaving me to consider my situation for a while, he returned to his reading.

I hadn't thought about that legality, however I was pretty sure neither of their wills mentioned a guardian. One day when I was about ten, a friend couldn't play because his family had to attend the reading of his grandfather's will. I became curious about what wills contain and asked my father. He explained what was in his will and that mother had one of her own. I asked him what the difference was between his and mother's will and he explained about rights of survivorship and other things. They didn't foresee dying at the same time so they hadn't named a guardian for me. This was, for me, a fortunate oversight.

I was certain that guardians were usually family members, aunts, uncles, or sometimes grandparents, otherwise it got more complicated. Therefore, I needed to keep it simple. I required Carlisle to be my guardian so I had to contrive a story that made him seem a legitimate relative.

Convincing any one that he was a member of my father's family was impossible. My father's entire family was well known and deeply connected throughout their business and social circles. But not many people knew about my mother's family and what they did know would play nicely into my requirements.

"You could be my mother's only brother or rather half-brother. Her parents separated and my grandfather went back to Scotland. My grandmother died last year so she can't contest it. You could be his son or even a step-son. Um… No, it would have to be a son. He left the country long before I was born and died several years ago, it would be possible for me to have an uncle. You could be here from Scotland or England and my father's family hasn't had a chance to meet you," I thought out loud. I was inexperienced at complex lies so I was trying to sound it out, trying to get it to make sense, even to me.

Carlisle laughed as he listened to my verbal musing.

"It would explain your accent," I said meekly, hanging my head for a second very glad he couldn't read my mind. He looked more like an older brother than an uncle, but I guess he seemed older than he looked because I knew his true age. I could also hear his thoughts which echoed with the wisdom of someone so much older, so much had happened to him.

"They _would_ give you guardianship if I claimed you were my uncle. Wouldn't they?" I threw out hesitantly for him to consider.

"That sounds good. They might not require proof of kinship if you personally make the request of guardianship.

"I've told no one I had family here, not that I was very close to anyone. We would have to leave Chicago pretty soon in case someone got too curious," he said candidly. "But that's acceptable. I've been here seven years; it's time to leave anyway."

I could feel his excitement grow at the thought of sharing the adventure of finding another town and home with me. His thoughts were racing in many different directions too fast for even me to catch. Then his mind settled down to the task at hand.

After composing an obituary article with the names of their parents and a list of surviving relatives, and my father's business and other information, he telephoned the funeral home. He dictated the obituary and set a time for the funeral two days later.

That afternoon, I was relieved to have full control of my head again, as our neighbors said their farewells to the other 'Edward' when he left their estate.

Carlisle insisted that we hunt again that night. I didn't know if I could take any more so soon, but it didn't stop me as I released myself to the thirst. I didn't gorge as much as the first time because Carlisle's thirst was satisfied but nevertheless drank more than necessary to be what Carlisle considered 'safe'. It was brutal and ugly because of the beast was uncontrolled by Carlisle's influence. I returned to him a bloody mess and with ripped clothing. On the way home, I repeated the lake bath but I didn't have to run home naked because Carlisle protected clean clothing until I was safely in the water so I wouldn't drip blood or something equally as nasty on them.

At home again, Carlisle took my measurements to order clothes over the telephone. He talked to his regular salesperson ordering shirts and slacks for me and a couple more to replace the ones I'd destroyed. He also ordered other clothing like nightshirts, undershirts and shorts, socks and a pair of shoes for his visiting and fast growing nephew.

The obituary came out in the paper that morning with the date and time of the funeral. It saddened me to see the announcement actually printed. It stated that Edward and Elizabeth Masen had died of Spanish influenza on September 20 and 21. Their 17 year old son Edward Anthony survived them, a half-brother Carlisle Cullen survived my mother, and listed my father's brothers. I found I couldn't read the rest of the article, that touted my father's achievements.

I wasn't too worried that any of my father's family would come looking for me. We weren't that close, but just to be sure they wouldn't feel compelled to do so Carlisle's quick thinking produced telegrams to my paternal uncles letting them know I was safe in my maternal uncle's care. That evening several telegrams arrived. They were relieved that mother's brother would provide support for me during this ordeal. One uncle considered me a bright young man who was capable of taking care of myself in the future. They offered their condolences and regrets that they couldn't attend the funeral, as they had family health issues of their own.

My new clothing arrived by courier in the late afternoon. A store courier delivered the parcel to a box at the entrance of the driveway. He was quite noisy so we were aware of his arrival. I listened to his thoughts, he was happy it was his last delivery as he was looking forward to going home. After he left, I rushed out to bring in the parcel. The clothes fit perfectly and the well fitting shoes were very expensive looking.

We went hunting that night also and it was a repeat of the brutal night before. Before dawn, I washed away the smeared and clotted blood again but I was getting used to it, somewhat.

The double funeral would be that evening at twilight for Carlisle's benefit, in case it was a sunny cloudless day. To pass the time during the morning, I convinced Carlisle to tell stories of the historical events he had lived through. In the afternoon, I tried to read but found that I missed my piano. I would have played my mother's favorite songs. I could imagine her sitting behind me in her chair listening as she knitted or embroidered. I remembered looking back to see her proud smile as she nodded to the music. I asked Carlisle if it were possible to get my piano for me and he said that he could arrange it. He laughed as he watched my fingers twitch like they were hitting the keys and thought, _it may take a day or two_. Then Carlisle suggested I go into the forest and wait for him there but I refused.

Just before twilight, I drew the thick dusty drapes shut and sat cross-legged in my darkened room, my elbows on my knees and chin in my hands. My nose an inch from the mirror, I stared into my dilated black pupils surrounded by the thin line of blood red iris watching through Carlisle's eyes as he prepared his car for the trip into Chicago for the funeral.

He sat the satchel that contained my hand written eulogies in the seat next to him.

_Will you be okay? _he asked for the hundredth time.

"Yes," I replied with less certainty than before hoping that it was true, also hoping that he didn't hear doubt in my voice. He was leaving me behind for the first time. I wouldn't have his thoughts in my head for more than two hours, and I was frightened, but I had to endure the lack of Carlisle's thoughts, his reassurance, his decades of control that had become instinctive, all the things he did to help me control and endure my newborn desires and I…was… frightened. Losing the connection in the forest for a few minutes was one thing. If I grew uneasy, in the forest, I could always run toward him, grasping on to his reassuring thoughts like a lifeline, but I couldn't do that today. He would drive away, be gone, and I would have to deal with what I had become on my own.

It was my own fault, since I insisted that he go. I couldn't go, but I couldn't bear the thought of not being there in some way. At least, when Carlisle came home I would be able to see through his memory, his memory would flow into my mind and become my memory also.

"Have a safe trip. Hurry home," I said a little anxiously, over stressing the 'hurry home'.

_Of course,_ he replied slightly amused at my sentiments. He pulled out of the garage and the car sped down the driveway toward the road.

I stared into mirror ignoring my reflection, watching the road in front of him, and listening to his thoughts. Part of his mind was worried about me, another part was confident that I would be fine on my own, another was listing my good qualities (knowing I was listening) and a very tiny part was driving the car.

I chuckled thinking his life had become one long babysitting job, caring for a newborn vampire. Even now as he drove away, he was concerned and caring for me.

My mind struggled as it stretched to keep its link with Carlisle's mind but eventually, as I knew I would, I lost the link. All there was now were my red eyes staring back at me and the sudden awareness of hundreds of minds buzzing in the background.


	21. The Wills

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

21 THE WILLS

_Edward! Edward… Edward?_

Oh joy, I thought glumly, unfortunately Edward was back for a visit. Fortunately I was facing west, so my head didn't have to turn as I heard the name pop into my head again and again as the whole household turned out to happily greet him. Edward Tell was his name and I hated him for intruding on my grief and melancholy. I sat there angry and desperately sad. I wanted to feel miserable for a while, I was missing my parent's funeral, my chance to say farewell. So I sat there staring at my flawless face with miserable and tearless red eyes, thinking of my family.

Carlisle was right I should have gone to the forest, here I could only pace the floor or stare into space. I didn't sit there unhappy for long as I thought of what I wrote about them and what I'd left out, recalling the great times we had. I joyfully struggled to remember both the blissfully mundane and special events of our lives.

The time went by remarkably fast and with a jolt, I felt the link with Carlisle's mind return as he drove home in the dark. I was still sitting on the dresser staring past my reflection into my memories. They kept me from dwelling on my fear that I would do something stupid while he was gone. Now he was back, all was well and I had happily pulled many foggy human memories forward into sharp vampire memories, so my mother and father would never be lost to me.

As Carlisle predicted no one came to the funeral except him and his aides. I watched and listened as he recalled the entire series of events. The only surprise was seeing his choice of aides. Both were middle aged women fashionably dressed in black. One was well mannered, statuesque and very pretty, she spoke like a scholar. The other was burly, brusque and muscular with a homely face but she had an agreeable personality. They kept a respectful distance from Carlisle but their obviously purpose was to support and assist him.

He read my eulogies over their graves for me and visualized the beautiful assortment of flowers that had been delivered. He brought home dozens of sympathy cards from their friends, my school friends, father's family, acquaintances and people who had worked with or were clients of my father.

I didn't want to hunt that night but I needed to get away from all the mental noise so we went to the forest. As soon as I caught the scent of a bear, I was running toward it, so much for not wanting to hunt.

I spent half the next day writing thank you notes. It helped me work through my sorrow and guilt that I had survived when they hadn't. It also helped to appreciate how much my parents meant to others. I had always thought they were good people so it was nice to have it confirmed.

The sympathy cards from my school and childhood friends were the hardest to cope with. I knew I couldn't continue our friendship. Carlisle told me I had two choices send a thank you note and just disappear, or I could write to them and let them know that I was still ill and that I would never fully recover. I was going to live with my uncle somewhere far away - 'just pick a place', he suggested. I wrote letters all saying the same thing, although I had more friends, these were the ones who saw the obituary and had responded. They would eventually see my other friends and pass the word along that I was ill, no longer living in Chicago. It shouldn't have mattered but I felt better, it wouldn't have been right just to disappear.

The afternoon after the funeral Carlisle called my parents' personal lawyer. Their lawyer, Robert Talbot, was one of the junior partners in father's law firm. He had been one of the sympathy card senders. Carlisle had copies of my parent's death certificates delivered to his office. Since I couldn't leave the house except to head for the wilderness, we made arrangements for him to come to Carlisle's house to read the wills. He made an appointment to come at noon three days later.

We hunted every night and I took more than I needed against Carlisle's insistence that it wouldn't help. Carlisle's thirst blazed as I made my first kill. I knew as I drained the last of the blood and it was as if I hadn't drank at all that he needed to hunt before I made myself sick.

"Carlisle," I called out. "I can feel your thirst and it makes me want too much. Please, go hunt."

_I didn't think about that,_ he thought aghast and he was off toward a scent he had already identified. I tried not to focus on the target of his hunt and found another scent to follow. The hunt was over fairly quickly once he was sated. Each predawn morning I was miserably full for I was desperately nervous about our visitor so I was trying to make myself 'safe' for his sake.

We spent the morning planning and discussing, preparing and decorating. Noon came too quickly.

"Are you ready?" he asked me as we heard a car pull off the road onto the long winding gravel driveway. He fluffed the last pillow and tossed it at me. I placed it against the headboard behind me.

"Yes, I think so." I was very uneasy but he was confident and I leaned on his mental certainty, still I counted the days since I had been changed. Day one was when I stopped burning, and four was the day of the funeral. Now I was eight days old, was I ready for this?

I had no choice he was driving up now.

"Hold your breath and speak only when you must. I'll make sure he doesn't get too close to you." Carlisle lowered the flame in the bedside lamp, moved a few items on the table stood back and nodded. The stage was set.

"You know what to do. You will be fine," he said soothingly and went downstairs to wait for our visitor.

I ran over our simple plan again in my mind. I needed to act lethargic and use a rough voice to speak supporting the impression that I recovering from my illness. My room was dark, the drapes pulled closed but I was to keep my eyes squinted so he couldn't see the color.

I had met the man before so I knew he would recognize me as Edward Masen. I was only to confirm that Carlisle was my uncle and I wanted him as my guardian. Most important of all was to remember - _Do Not Breathe!_

"Easy, this will be easy," I said trying to convince myself.

I had practiced talking with only the air in my lungs. I wasn't very good yet. I used up too much air but I practice rephrasing my words until I could say what I needed to say using one deep breath.

I heard the car pull up to the house. I waited in my room for my acting debut. I sat on the bed in one of my nightshirts surrounded by books. A tray with medicine bottles and a glass of water sat on my bedside table for effect.

I heard the car engine stop, the car door open and close, and footsteps on the gravel. Then I heard the door bell ring, Carlisle's footsteps and the door open. Carlisle was calm as I watched him open the door but with each sound I had to suppress my apprehension. I took my last deep breath and held it.

"Hello. I'm Mr. Talbot, the Masen's lawyer."

I watched the little man introduce himself to Carlisle.

As soon as I heard his voice I found his internal 'voice' and I saw through his eyes, he looked up at Carlisle's face with surprise. I looked through Carlisle's eye to see the surprised look on his face. I focused back to Mr. Talbot's thoughts.

"Yes, we were expecting you. Please come in." Carlisle moved back and invited him into the house.

"Thank you. You have a lovely home." He looked around trying to discover what smelled so wonderful then he focused on Carlisle. _Great! _I thought in disbelief, _so we smell really good to humans on top of everything else._

Carlisle fascinated Mr. Talbot. He thought Carlisle was the most handsome man he'd ever seen but something made him wary and he was uneasy, like he had walked into the wrong house. Although everything looked right something didn't feel quite right to him.

"Thank you. I'm Carlisle Cullen, Edward's uncle on his mother's side. May I take your coat?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, slightly confused. I could tell that it was Carlisle's presence that had him uneasy but not so much that he knew why he felt that way. In the back of his mind he attributed it to the long tree lined driveway and the aged and eerie look of the house.

I heard the rustle of fabric. I watched him remove his coat through Carlisle's eyes and watched Carlisle hang it on the coat rack through the lawyer's eyes. This was an entertaining game. I hadn't been around two minds like this so I hadn't been able to jump between minds before and found it very entertaining. Although I could hear and see through them both at the same time it was less confusing if I focused on one or the other.

Listening to him did not trigger my thirst at all, this was wonderful. My anxiety diminished rapidly.

"Edward is upstairs. I'm sure you would like to see him first before we get down to business." Carlisle guided him toward the stairs.

"Yes, I would like to give him my condolences." He looked around the entry hall and up the stairs, he was slightly nervous.


	22. Do Not Breathe

22 DO NOT BREATHE

_Make some noise! You're too quiet, sick boy, _Carlisle admonished me. Being aware of the man's physical responses to his surroundings he could also tell that Mr. Talbot was uncomfortable.

I coughed though it was harder to do than I thought. I had practiced my lines but not the rough voice or cough. I modified a growl to make a weak cough that used up some of my limited supply of air.

The effort and sacrifice of air was worth it though, Mr. Talbot relaxed significantly when he heard me cough.

"This way," Carlisle directed and I heard them coming up the stairs.

I pulled the bedcovers over me shuffling the books off to one side of the bed. I laid an open a book across my stomach, resting my head back against the pillow.

"I don't think he is contagious but I'd prefer if you stayed at the doorway for your safety," Carlisle said as they made their way up the stairs.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," he said nervously.

I closed my eyes and made an effort to move my chest up and down as if I was breathing as they entered the doorway. The lawyer stood in the center of the doorway neither in nor out.

Through lawyer's mind and eyes I immediately saw how well Carlisle had set the scene. This was clearly the room of a convalescing person and I looked like I had just fallen asleep reading my book. My dark red hair was in harsh contrast with my thin pale face. The skin of my face and hands merged into the whiteness of my nightshirt and bedclothes. Twenty feet away from the bed, he was startled by my apparent frailness and wondered how I had survived, but seeing and recognizing me made him more at ease.

"Edward our visitor is here."

I opened my eyes just a little and nodded. My head suddenly turned to the left, toward the west. Damn, they were talking about Edward Tell. I moved my head back to the right, toward the lawyer.

"Hello," I said weakly trying to apply the airy raspy voice I'd heard Carlisle use. Again, it was a modified growl.

"Hello Edward, I don't know if you remember me, I'm Robert Talbot. I am so very sorry for your loss and very pleased that you survived this devastating illness. We miss your father terribly at the firm. He was an excellent lawyer and very good at everything he did. He was also a good friend.

"He spoke fondly of you and your mother and I know he was very proud of you. Losing them both is a terrible thing. I am glad that you have your uncle here for support."

He maintained a courteous and professional tone. He had been my father's friend and sincerely felt his death was a tragic loss.

I closed my eyes and nodded agreeing with his statement that losing them was a terrible thing. His memories of my father as a strong and vital part of the business made me want to cry, but his memories of my father's exuberant pride in me were especially stirring. I cherished them but they were more than I could take. My already raw emotions collapsed. I threw my arm over my eyes, and finally stopped fighting the pull to the west and turned away. Although there were no tears, my body shook with racking sobs.

"Edward?" Carlisle didn't know what had happened to cause my emotional outburst but he knew I had 'heard' something that upset me.

"Sorry to upset you," the lawyer said after a moment of awkward silence. He was truly sorry. He was wondering what was causing my muscle twitch and was very happy to be so far away from me.

"It's okay," I croaked, controlling my sobs. I lowered my arm and rubbed at my eyes, for they ached to run with tears. I turned my head to squint at him again folding my hands on my chest.

_We'll talk about it later, if you want_, Carlisle sighed.

"Um… ah …," Mr. Talbot continued somewhat self-conscious now reverting to his mental list of priorities. "There are papers that need to be signed and you can't legally sign them since you are still a minor. Ah… You will need a guardian. Your parents didn't provide a name for a guardian so…um." He turned to address Carlisle for he felt no reservations asking him to be my guardian.

"Mr. Cullen," he started.

"_Doctor_ Cullen," Carlisle corrected him pleasantly.

"Oh! Ah… _Doctor_ Cullen would you consent to be his legal guardian?" he formally asked him. "Um… because you are family the paperwork is minimal." _Edward is lucky that his uncle is a doctor and willing to look after him, _he thought, even more pleased with my situation.

"Yes, I would be honored to fill that role for Edward," Carlisle answered equally as formal. He beamed inwardly as I knew he would.

"Is this agreeable, Edward?" he asked.

"Yes, I would like that, thank you." Again I growled the words but I smiled happily reflecting Carlisle's happiness.

I twitched again, Edward Tell was leaving with a group of people and … wouldn't be back… until… ah? … next month! _Goodbye Edward! _I thought gratefully.

"Let's go and let him rest. We can take care of the rest of our business downstairs," Carlisle concluded the visit quickly; he didn't like my see-sawing emotional state.

"Get well soon Edward," he said as a farewell.

"Thank you," I croaked, it came out as barely a squeak. I was out of air now. _I need to learn to use less air to speak_, I thought, mildly annoyed at myself.

_Are you all right? _Carlisle asked me again as Mr. Talbot headed back toward the stairs. I smiled broadly, replaying the treasured memories of my father that the lawyer had just gifted me. I was also happy that Edward Tell was leaving for while.

_Well done. _Carlisle smiled for a second then looked at me seriously. _Don't breathe until he has left the house , okay?_

I nodded still smiling as he left the room. I was proud of myself. I had done it. Easy!

I inherited my parent's house in Chicago with everything in it and the summer house on Lake Michigan. I also got my father's substantial savings and investments and my mother's jewelry and paintings. In my mind best news of all was that I got the family car.

They concluded their business, with the assurance that the appropriate documents for his signature would arrive by courier within five days.

"Thank you. Goodbye," Carlisle said holding the door open as Mr. Talbot left.

The door closed. I listened as Mr. Talbot crank-started his Model T, then tires crunching in the gravel as the car began to move away.

Relieved that he was gone I threw off the bedcovers, jumped off the bed and took a deep breath as I started to the door. The strong human scent lingering in the room hit my throat like molten flames. A voracious thirst flashed through me like lightening and wreaked havoc on my entire body. I snarled, my muscles tensed and my stomach twisted. Like tissue paper in a flame all my conscious thought was gone as I flew out of the room and down the stairs before I realized I was standing.

Carlisle heard my snarl and instantly knew what had happened.

_NO! Edward STOP! Don't breathe, _he shouted at me in his head.

"STOP!" he shouted out loud as I streaked down the stairs.

I wasn't going to stop. I wasn't in control.

He launched himself the fifteen feet from the door to the stairs as I hit the bottom step - both of his hands gripped and locked into my shoulders as we hit each other full force. Even with his full strength thrown against me, my momentum slammed us into the front door and split the iron strapped solid wood door down the middle.

The noise and the impact along with his frightened face in front of mine shocked me and I felt a little control coming back to me. His expression said afraid, but the beast listened indifferent to his terrified thoughts. Carlisle was not terrified _of_ me but _for_ me, for what I was being compelled to do by the thirst.

_Edward, STOP! Don't breathe, STOP! – Think - you don't want to do this! STOP!_ He attempted to push me away from the door, he couldn't but I wasn't moving forward either.

"DO NOT BREATHE!" he said sharply keeping his eyes on mine.

Those exact words were like a trigger and somehow I heard him and stopped breathing before my next inhale. Abruptly the madness wasn't as consuming but I still struggled against him. I kept my eyes on his trying to regain control over the beast raging inside me. I knew I was physically stronger than he was, but I wasn't going to use my strength to fight him, I couldn't. I could see my beastly face in his eyes, my murderous expression, my blood red eyes blazing. Frightened, I grabbed him and held on, to keep the beast from going out the door. He felt me clutch at him and didn't understand my motivation.

"Edward!" _Edward Stop! _He twisted and jerked me away from the door and I let him.

I heard the car pull out of the driveway onto the roadway. I crumpled to my knees on the floor. I let him go but he didn't release me. I, no we, had stopped the beast this time.

"Oh Carlisle, what am I to do?" I moaned with the little air I had left in my burning lungs. I dropped my head into my hands. I was ashamed that I let the beast loose so easily.


	23. Remorse and Laughter

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

23 REMORSE AND LAUGHTER

Carlisle was standing over me but he was totally folded in on himself. He released his grip on me. Through his eyes I could see myself kneeling on the floor looking wretched. I could hear his self-loathing for imposing this much responsibility on me.

"You have taken to my way of life so naturally that I forget how young you are and what a real struggle this must be for you. I have also forgotten how hard it is to be what we are trying to be. I am so sorry, it's my fault for exposing you so soon. Please forgive me," he asked, his voice contrite.

I looked up at his grief-stricken face dumbfounded. I reached up to him, shaking my head, denying his assertion.

All he could see was my distraught face looking accusingly up at him, shaking my head denying him my forgiveness. .

_What have I done? _he lamented and fell to his knees next to me, his head hung in sorrow. He was re-examining his ability to watch over me properly and keep me safe from temptation. He thought I was angry with him.

I had no air in my lungs and I needed to speak. I reached out and grabbed his shoulder and mentally pulling on his strength I took a breath through my mouth. The human scent was very potent but the burn wasn't as bad as before, and I was prepared for it. I let it rage through me before I spoke to Carlisle with lungs full of flaming air.

"No! No - you gave me excellent coaching. It was working - _it was _- it's not your fault. I didn't think and took too deep a breath, obviously."

I shook his shoulder. "_Thank you_ for stopping me! I was running before I knew it." My emotional words rushed out. "_PLEASE, _listen to me."

I listened to his thoughts, he had heard me but it wasn't helping relieve his distress. He was tortured because he loved me because I _was_ his son and he didn't want me to suffer in any way.

At that moment I knew what I needed to say to bring him around, my new mind was an amazing thing. Now that I had something important to plan, I was able to ignore the beast and was busily scheming. I almost laughed at my audacity, even though it wasn't humorous. I was accustomed to getting my way consistently when I was human, before I could actually hear someone's thoughts. I may not have had a lot of experience lying but even then I had been a superb manipulator.

This was manipulation but it was also a kindness. He needed to hear me to say this, but mainly I wanted him to hear it because I really meant it.

"Carlisle," I said softly, but he was lost in grief. I paused then raising my other hand so I held both his shoulders I turned myself to face him.

"_Father!_" I pleaded raising my voice, "Please listen!" My voice broke with emotion as I realized how much that word when applied to him, meant to me now. I had memories of my human father vividly stored in my vampire mind, I would never lose him but I had another father now.

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with shocked surprise. I nodded, acknowledging the query in his mind.

"We are all right. You _stopped_ me. Nothing terrible happened," I said slowly with conviction. "We will get it right next time. It was _me_, I made the mistake. I am so sorry," I said dropping my hands from his shoulders, then I slowly eased into an apologetic smile.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at me suspiciously. He knew what I had heard in his thoughts. He tried to smile back swallowing a tightening in his throat; he was having a hard time giving up the anguish. I let it sink in for a moment and was smiling somewhat cockily now.

Another moment went by as he processed what I had said and _all_ that it implied. He had an even more amazing mind and I nodded at his conclusion, then he smirked at my cocky smile.

"Well, then, _son,_ don't let this happen again," he finally said somewhat mockingly, but the emotion behind it was far from mocking. His smirk slowly turned into a true smile as he released all the strain of the tense incident.

"Yes sir!" I replied sincerely apologetic, my smile gone. The thirst in me grumbled longingly at the thought of human blood that got away. At the moment the beast had little influence over me as my mind basked in both my happiness and Carlisle's joy. Then I started laughing pulling in deep burning breaths of diminishing human scent, pleased that I had the beast under relative control at the moment. I fell backwards laughing joyfully. Genuine relief, that together we had successfully prevented a tragedy, colored my laughter.

At first he was concerned watching me suck in breath after fiery breath. When I remained on the floor laughing, he shook his head, baffled at my reaction.

"_WE_… bested… my… beast," I managed to gasp out the words between laughing breaths and continued laughing until he finally joined me.

_We are a tough pair aren't we - father and son,_ he thought through his laughter, extremely pleased with my playful but genuine acceptance of how he saw our relationship.

We were both enjoying the way those words sounded.

"Yes, we are!" I laughed for another moment then stopped.

I moaned and winced. He looked at me questioningly as he too stopped laughing. I looked up glumly at the broken door which had miraculously remained standing.

"Now I have another repair to pay for," I groaned and gestured at the door.

"No more visitors until you learn when not to breathe, young man!" he admonished me facetiously.

We laughed even harder.

When the legal papers arrived for Carlisle's signature there were other papers too. My father's lawyer established that I was an heir for my three elderly spinster great aunts' and two bachelor great uncles' estates. My father had been one of their heirs, now along with my two uncles and a few cousins. The influenza epidemic had caused other deaths in my extended family, the reason why none of my father's relatives had attended the funeral. I would be inheriting money from them. According to the lawyer I was now a rich young man on my way to being richer.

I would be able to repay Carlisle for my parents' funeral. He probably wouldn't make me pay for the repairs on the house, the damage to the wall and furniture was his fault. He had warned me about my strength but he hadn't said a word about being so incredibly fast it was impossible to stop without practice. However, I felt it my financial burden to replace the front door.

Carlisle had his own group of lawyers and financial advisers so he had them take over my legal and financial dealings, including paying the bills and taxes on my two houses. They had been his lawyers for twenty years and were accustomed to his eccentric life and wandering ways, but they spoke to him as if he were an older man. They obviously had never personally met him. As they discussed the amount of interest he had accrued for the year my jaw dropped. When I asked him about it he shrugged it off. Carlisle didn't like to talk about it but he was embarrassingly rich.

I was an orphan and Carlisle didn't like the word, it meant something different to him than it did to me. In his mind it brought a whole array of horrifying recollections. As the son of a minister he knew what became of orphans in the mid 1600's. Times had changed but he couldn't help his reaction, it was part of who he was. He wasn't content just to be my guardian. He wanted to give me more than that now that we both thought of each other as father and son.

He had his lawyers draw up adoption papers and with their connections got a judge to sign them. Within days I was officially his son. When the new birth certificate came in the mail naming me Edward Anthony Masen Cullen I knew mother's vision had come true. I had been happy that he was my guardian but to have him for my father was another connection, another link binding us together making us truly family.


	24. Music and Mastery

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

24 MUSIC AND MASTERY

I was desperately missing my piano and the solace it gave me and now that I had the money to buy my own piano, a much better model than the one at home and I knew exactly what I wanted. Carlisle called one of his aides to find one, there was a new one available but it was in another city. He also requested an honest caretaker for my house which was quickly provided. So I didn't worry that someone would loot my house until I could get there and do the job myself.

The phone rang. It was a jarring sound one I hadn't heard it in more than a week. I knew Carlisle heard it. It rang again. He was six steps from the telephone while I was upstairs.

"Carlisle?" I called softly from upstairs.

"You get it," he answered, for some strange reason he was amused.

"Me?" I blurted out. I hadn't answered a telephone for months, fuzzy human memories of answering a call sometime during the summer. Mother usually took all our calls. It was a little daunting.

_Yes, You. _Came the nonverbal answer.

I dashed to the stairs and leapt down them not touching a one, landing lightly directly in front of the telephone as it rang for a third time. I stood in front of it, nonchalantly picked up the earpiece and held it up. I could already hear the person breathing on the other end, I didn't need to hold it to my ear. I had answered a telephone before but this felt strange.

"Hello?" I spoke softly into the mouthpiece.

"Master Cullen?"

Who? Carlisle was Dr. Cullen, and then I realized in a fraction of a second that _I_ _was_ Master Cullen, until I turned twenty one I was a juvenile and therefore Master was the proper way to address me.

"Yes, this is Master Cullen," I answered tentatively. Carlisle chuckled from the other room. He could hear the whole conversation, he liked that the man called me the diminutive but respectful Master Cullen.

"Sir, your piano is sitting on the truck ready for delivery. When may I bring it out?"

It was strange hearing only his voice, I got none of the other information I would get from my 'extra' hearing. The respectful way he was talking and the fact that he called me Master Cullen let me know this was one of Carlisle's aides. He knew Carlisle's voice and knew that the piano was for me.

Carlisle had aides, as I saw through his eyes at the funeral but I hadn't really grasp the concept yet. He thought of them and I knew they were scrupulously honest assistants who did things for him. They performed some of his mundane but still important business that didn't require lawyers. They knew that he was very rich and good to those who were honest and did first-rate work. These were the people who sought out houses in new cities, delivered new automobiles, equipment or furniture, hired and paid various workers and attended auctions in his stead. There were several working for him right now but in a few years they could retire or start their own business with the money they made working for him.

Although I knew Carlisle had heard what the man said he hadn't answered the question.

"One moment please." I sat the earpiece on the table and took the two steps to the parlor door and looked at Carlisle who was sitting in a chair reading a huge volume on the history of the Slavic nations, boring.

"He wants to know when to deliver the piano," I said excitedly even though he knew that. Carlisle looked up from his book an amused look on his face. He could see my excitement.

"Hm… two hours from now." _You head for the dock on the river and I will air out the parlor after they leave. You will know when it is safe to return._

I returned to the telephone. "Precisely two hours from now, please," I answered, disappointed that Carlisle was making me wait for no apparent reason.

"Yes sir, I will be there in precisely two hours. Thank you, sir," the man replied. It felt strange to be called 'sir' but it felt stranger to be called Master Cullen. _Get use to it_, I thought smiling. _You are Master Cullen now._

Then I caught a hint of why Carlisle hadn't answered me and why he delayed the delivery; acting human. I needed to go through the motions of acting human, like I couldn't hear every thought in other's heads.

I went into the parlor and looked at the empty place in the room. Carlisle and I had moved the furniture around earlier to prepare for the piano.

Two hours. I was almost giddy. I needed something to do while I waited so I returned to my room and tried to read the book I had been reading, but my fingers kept moving over invisible keys, miming the music I was longing to play.

Precisely two hours later I heard the truck coming down the road and knew that Carlisle heard it, too.

"I'm gone," I said, jumping from my bedroom window into the backyard. I walked to the boat dock.

I watched through Carlisle's eyes as they brought in the piano and the bench. I was surprised by the stack of sheet music they also delivered compliments of the manufacturer. I couldn't wait to get my hands on it.

I fidgeted and paced for a half an hour after they had gone, before Carlisle's mind told me the scent in the house was well within my usually acceptable background tolerance. I rushed back to the house.

I stood in the parlor doorway and stared at the beautiful piano sitting in the spot we had prepared for it. I smelled the ivory, wood, metal, varnish and polish. I walked over and ran my hands over the smooth wood before I opened the cover and gazed at the keyboard. I sat down and lightly ran my fingers up and down the scales. The feel of the keys was wonderful, tight and crisp. I was in heaven; the sound of the piano was superb.

I played for days; it was great to play again. My fingers could do amazing things on the keys and my music memory was fantastic! I could look at a sheet of music and had it memorized, hear it on the radio and play it. It was wonderful.

When I wasn't playing my new piano, running or hunting, cleaning up from hunting, thinking about going hunting or wishing I was hunting, Carlisle and I were reading or talking. He told me about his life and I watched the scenes play out in his head. I was learning to cope with my new existence by listening to his life, it was an amazing story. He would talk and I would see or hear something interesting in the background of his thoughts and ask him about it and we would be off into another story.

I had my favorites among his stories and although I could replay them in my own head it was more interesting to have him retell me. Sometimes I got even more out of the retelling than I got the first time as he remembered more details. Occasionally the story started earlier or lasted longer, sending us into yet another round of questions and answers. I didn't have many stories to share so he did most of the talking. I was settling into my new existence fairly well, at least from Carlisle perspective. Still I was impatient. I wanted to get on with moving away and having a new adventure.

That I didn't have to sleep made it easy to ease my beastly thirst every night. We hunted at night, Carlisle told me, because there was less chance of running into human hunters. I argued that with my talent I would have heard them long before I would have smelled them. Carlisle countered with, 'unless the wind was blowing _just_ the wrong way'. I lost my bid to hunt during the day except in very bad weather so we hunted at night but were still cautious.

Carlisle continued to be patient with me, he admitted he hadn't been around newborns much and his own experience had been a unique one. He did tell me I didn't need to feed so much because it didn't help. I never considered myself as slow to learn so this was exasperating.

I was a newborn vampire; the scary term would describe me for almost a year. Being a newborn vampire had its disadvantages. Once you were on the hunt, caught up in the scent, nothing else mattered. Discernment was not an option. It took weeks of listening and 'listening' to him to really hear him and finally _know_ its truth, that the beast was never going to be satisfied – ever. So I only needed enough animal blood to keep human blood from tempting me, but it took longer than that to increase my ability to do something about it.

I had just fed so I was full of warm blood, and the burn in my throat was to some extent eased. I was just me for the moment. I looked down at my ripped and bloody clothes knowing that I'd be better off hunting naked if I was going to continue to be a gruesome savage. I was going to run through my inheritance buying new clothes.

_I don't want to live my life like this, _I thought disgusted with myself. I didn't want to wait a day longer let alone a year to learn a little control.

The scent of a nearby bear hit my nose and the thirst returned. I became the beast again, smelling the air for the source of the scent that would send me off on the hunt. The dried blood on my face and shirt was dead blood and smelled different, the empty carcass on the ground at my feet was easy to ignore.

Suddenly I exploded with anger. I hadn't lost my temper in a very long time and my frustration had been building. I desperately needed just a little control in this part of my life.

"NO! I will NOT be an unthinking monster – in anything. I may be a monstrosity, but I will do it sanely and with some dignity," I shouted into the air and I began pushing back at the beast. I was seething, actually trembling with rage at myself.

I picked up the blood-spattered carcass of the black bear I had just drained and threw it as far as I could. I watched it soar over the little meadow toward the forest where it hit a tree and fell to the ground. I was still shaking with anger. _This is absurd,_ I told myself, _if you want control over the beast then you must control yourself. _

I ripped off my foul shirt and angrily scrubbed at my face trying to remove most of the mess. I tried to calm myself. _Just a little control,_ I thought determinedly.


	25. Determination

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

25 DETERMINATION

I became determined to watch Carlisle hunt. I wanted to learn how he managed to walk away from the hunt satiated and spotless. I had tried twice to see how he did it. Each time I had fallen victim to my covetous thirst's reaction to his hunt. Long before he tasted blood I wound up running off to find a source for myself, all thoughts from and about him forgotten. He didn't need to hunt as often as I did so that also limited my attempts to learn from him.

I stuffed my bloody shirt into my pants pocket not wanting to wear the filthy thing but I had to take it with me. I ran to the area where Carlisle was hunting. He was following a herd of elk. This time my stubborn curiosity was in control though just barely, my anger fueling my resolve.

In reality, I knew I needed help so I sat on the ground wrapping my arms and legs around a tree trunk and locked them in place. I was stubbornly determined to watch Carlisle from here and not move. The tree was more of a visual and tactile aid to help me focus. I probably looked ridiculous but I was intent on my goal, my anger feeding my determination not my reasoning skills. I was desperately interested to find out how he did what he did. I was going to do everything I could to stay with him until he tasted blood. I _HAD_ to know how he did it.

I listened and watched through his eyes as he chased down a huge elk bull that was following its harem. He carefully broke the animal's neck after he caught it so it wouldn't feel pain but its heart continued to beat. It wasn't what I could see through his eyes that finally taught me. He could have told me how to do this a hundred times but it didn't sink in if he had. It was what he felt with his hands and his mouth that gave me hints to his secret. Until now I would have never recognized the clues they were so subtle even if I'd been able to follow him this long.

At last, I saw how he isolated and squeezed the large artery in the neck shut with his fingers just before his teeth, with almost surgical accuracy, cut through it, avoiding the large veins. Carlisle might not want to hurt the animal but he was still a bit of a hedonist, leaving the heart beating, letting the heart pump the hot, wet, soothing blood into his mouth. With unmistakable pleasure he drank in the surge of pulsing blood, not rushing the experience letting the animal's heart do the work. The blood eased his parched and burning throat. He totally controlled the animal _and_ the blood flow.

I could feel the thirst screaming for blood, the urge fire-raking my throat. Elk blood was not the best tasting blood but if you did it his way it was, oh, so much better. My stubborn curiosity tenuously held onto its control over my body and mind. I was trembling as I continued to listen while Carlisle leisurely fed. I could feel my arms tighten around the tree and I knew I had only a few more moments of control.

Abruptly the elk's heart stopped. Quickly he sliced the large veins with his teeth and eagerly drained the rest of the still hot blood, it wasn't as satisfying as the blood straight from the lungs through the heart and but it fueled his body and soothed his thirst's ache. He drank without a hint of my bloody savageness.

I heard a crash and felt a thud against my chest. Suddenly aware of my actual surrounding I found that I sat with my legs still wrapped around the trunk of the tree. My arms wrapped tightly across my chest. Splintered wood and sap coated my shirtless arms and chest where I had crushed the tree against my body. The rest of the shattered tree was lying beside me on the ground. Now that I wasn't focus on Carlisle's mind it was easy to regain control over my own reactions. I was breathing rapidly but amazingly still in control of my body.

If I had any hope of making his technique work for me_ I_ had to be _there_ with the beast to get it done. I couldn't hide in the corner of my mind and ignore the whole thing. I had to have control to do it. The beast was unconcerned with anything but getting to the blood. I had never tried to exert any power over the thirst when hunting and I wasn't sure how to do it.

When I was watching him I was so intent on _how_ he was able to feed and stay clean I hadn't been able to tell _how_ he controlled himself and it would be another ten days before he fed again. I didn't have the strength to watch him as he made his way to another elk. I found myself also running but toward the bear I'd smelled earlier.

It was less disgusting than I thought it would be when I was somewhat in control. I was determined but didn't get it quite right the first time or the second. I needed practice both trying to control myself and the blood. It still wasn't the last night I had to destroy my bloody clothes.

A week later, I was able to control myself and fed with very little mess. Even better I was able to rein in the beast, and stopped feeding excessively. I lost the need to hunt every night. I was proud of myself and Carlisle was impressed.

Carlisle went back to work but only part time. He left me for four hours a night while I was in the deep wilderness. He returned for administrative work only, he didn't deal with patients. I couldn't block his mind and he was concerned that his stray thoughts could overwhelm me.

I was now able to roam around the garden and our forested grounds and enjoy the scents without having to fight the thirst when I caught the faint smell of our neighbors. Edward Tell was still gone.

I was almost ready to make my first trip into the city.


	26. Countryside Drive

26 A COUNTRYSIDE DRIVE

Carlisle had my father's, no my car, delivered to our house. I knew that Carlisle had held it back from me until he was sure of my relative stability. The last week had been a major milestone, and he was much less worried about me.

I spent the afternoon washing, waxing, buffing and polishing every surface of the car. The metal, wood, upholstery and paint each getting special treatment as I remembered my relationship with the car and my father.

Our family car was just a plain 1916 Ford Model T. My father could have purchased a more expensive car but he wasn't into fancy, he liked practical. If it worked then it was alright with him. The car had gotten him back and forth to the office and to the railroad station for two years. As a family we also drove downtown to the theater, to baseball games, went to the park for our picnics. We traveled in it to the summer house on the east coast of Lake Michigan. He didn't see any reason to buy a new one or have one that was showy.

One of my satisfying chores had been to make sure the car was ready for him each morning. I had learned, by watching him, to check the gas and the oil levels, turn the gas valve on and it had been my arm at risk each morning cranking the starter. When I reached sixteen and until I went off to college I had the added responsibility to back it out of the garage and park it on the street in front of the house. I would sit in the running car until he came out. My parents thought they were so sneaky but I knew he kissed my mother goodbye just before he opened the front door and they exited together.

"Good job, Edward," he had said with a smile. He always smiled at me as I stood with my mother on the front porch before he drove off. I remembered the first time he let me drive and pulled the memory forward. It was summer vacation. I was fifteen and we were fifty miles from the house on the lake. He pulled over and had me get into the driver's seat. The car was almost brand new so I was nervous until I saw my mother smile. They must have discussed allowing me drive the car earlier. I did so well that they let me drive all the way to the summer house, but that was the last time I had an opportunity to drive the car for any distance.

In a short time, I had meticulously cleaned the entire car and the highly buffed and polished surfaces gleamed from my efforts. My enjoyment was only marred by my continued head turns – Edward Tell was back.

I decided on a night time road trip out into the countryside after we'd hunted, once I was a relatively safe ten week old vampire. I knew the car wasn't very fast but it was the idea that I could drive my father's car wherever I wanted to go and that was too good to pass up.

I didn't even know if I could start the thing, not knowing if I had enough control over my strength to crank it without breaking something.

That night after the beast was sated, I made all the pre-drive checks. I lifted the seat and unscrewed the gas tank cap, used the gas gauge dipstick to check the gas level, it was three quarters full. I replaced the cap and the seat, went to the front of the car to check the oil, and turned on the gas valve.

I was unsure how much strength it took so I started by very tentatively turning the engine crank. Nothing happened. I adjusted the spark advance and tried again.

'Edward'. I heard someone say and my head jerked to the west just as I tried my next turn of the crank handle. Edward Tell was making one of his sleazy night trips into the servant's quarters. The engine responded and jerked the handle out of my hand and for the first time it hit my wrist but instead of breaking it the wooden handle covering the crank snapped, shattering into splinters and the metal bent.

Frustrated and nervous knowing the night would be filled with unwanted erotic thoughts, and my name repeated again and again. I pulled out the reserve crank, tried once more and gratefully the engine started. I jumped into the driver's seat and put the car in gear. I was glad to get away from the estate. I don't think Carlisle would have been happy with me if I went next door for a visit and killed Edward Tell even if I didn't drink his blood.

Roads to the west and northwest of Chicago were few and far between and those that were there were dirt or gravel and maintained by farmers if at all. I headed out west of the city following a meandering series of bumpy dirt roads. I decided to push the old vehicle to its limit and see what it would do. I adjusted the spark advance and pushed the accelerator lever to maximum.

I was traveling at about 50 miles an hour - faster than the car should be capable of traveling. The car was bouncing along a straight stretch of weather-beaten gravel road. At that speed the car's rear wheels and I flew into the air every time it hit a big bump. Tic-a-tic-a-tic-a the springs in the seat clicked as the tires bounced on the washboard-like road. I held onto the steering wheel as I bounced on the seat; it was like a fast funhouse ride now I was beginning to enjoy the car.

I came over a small rise and the road ended one hundred feet in front of me. The gravel road split off 90 degrees to the right and left, but straight ahead was a deep ditch and beyond that a tree-lined river one hundred feet away. At the speed I was traveling there wasn't enough of the road to stop the car or make either turn. The car was going into the ditch no matter what I did.

Hmm….What to do?

My brain at its swiftest, searched for a solution to my dilemma. Driving this slow car wasn't all that fun - I couldn't save the car in any case. Maybe it could go out with a bang! Put an indestructible 17 year old and a fragile automobile together and the automobile will always gets the bad end of the deal.

About 95 feet from the end of the road my foot slammed on the brake pedal. The brakes engaged for a split second and jerked me forward just before my foot pushed the pedal past the linkage and pressed it through the fragile wooden floorboard. I slid off the seat as the brake pedal and my foot hit the gravel road two feet below embedding the ruined pedal into the roadbed. My foot pushed down so hard against the ground that the tail end of the car flipped up and sent me and the car tumbling end over end down the road.

I pulled my leg free of the floor board and waited a split second until the car's rotation allowed me to push off into the night sky. I propelled myself away from the car giving it even more forward speed. I landed on my feet in the field next to the road and watched captivated as the car continued to tumble away, seemingly in slow motion. It was irresistibly amusing watching the fenders slowly crumple with each bounce. To my amazement the car actually lurched over the ditch. Various parts were jarred loose and soared away scattering the roadway and fields with debris.

I saw that the car was headed for a large tree on the riverbank and I didn't want it to stop its progress. I was curious to see what happened when the car hit the water. I ran a few steps and launched myself toward the still tumbling vehicle and gave it a sideways push. It twisted the car's tumbling direction and movement. With the added momentum it crazily careened away toward the river. I lightly landed on the other side of the ditch and laughed out loud at the absurdity of the car's motion.

I continued laughing as it flew wildly over the riverbank and _SPLOOSH!_ the car bounced once on its side throwing up a huge spray of water, a large wave hitting the opposite riverbank. The car twisted and flipped over. _SPLASH! _It sent up a second less impressive spray. The still running engine sputtered and died sending up bubbles as it sank. The bubbling water moved slowly down stream in the waning moonlight.

I laughed insanely for several minutes rolling around on the ground, replaying the absurd and destructive scene in my mind. I felt like me again, just a teenager, the thirst wasn't a factor in what I was doing. I couldn't hear voices in my head. I didn't have to watch my every move and reaction. I felt less restrained, less restricted than I had been. I felt free.

I lay on the ground just chuckling at the night sky now, watching wispy clouds move across the moon. It gave me hope that one day I would be fairly normal. Someday I would walk around in the world as Carlisle did. When my eyes were amber we could face it together like we should as father and son.

Suddenly my wistful daydream hit reality, father and son… wrecked car. Damn.


	27. The Rules

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

27 THE RULES

I hadn't had the car for twenty-four hours, and I had destroyed it. What was I going to tell Carlisle?

I dreaded telling him for only a second, I knew I would tell the truth, what else. I was a free man. He was my father true but for legalities only, first he was a friend not my keeper.

I laughed lightheartedly as I ran home in the predawn light. Hoping he would not be angry with me, knowing he had every right to be. By the time I arrived at our river I had reverted back to a remorseful teenager. I resigned myself to submit to my father's discipline as I walked up to the house.

It was almost dawn, so Carlisle was home from the hospital. I went into the parlor where he sat with another boring book in his lap. He looked up at me and his face fell at my expression.

"What did you do?" He immediately thought the worse, though he was confused for he didn't smell blood.

"I'm sorry. I wrecked the car. I really didn't mean to do it," I apologized, awaiting his response whatever it might be. His expression and mood changed immediately as he listened with relief to my story. I described the road, the river and my dilemma. I laughed as I described the flying car and its absurd flight into the river, I couldn't help myself, I could see it vividly again. He smiled, thinking my description of the event was funny too.

"You probably couldn't have saved the car so I'm glad that you got some amusement from it," he agreed.

Relieved that he wasn't mad at me, I also told him of my feeling of being almost 'normal'.

"You are on your way to that goal. I have no doubt that you will reach it long before the color of your eyes will allow you to walk around in public," he told me seriously. I could see my bright red eyes reflected in his amber one but I heard his pride in my rapid maturity.

"You shouldn't have left the car in the water to impede the flow of the river though," he said, becoming serious, concerned that I had left evidence behind.

THE Rules – something I hadn't thought of until he reminded me, so much for rapid maturity.

"That brake pedal buried in the road." He shook his head. "That's not good. There might be something else you didn't think of. You need to make sure nothing looks out of the ordinary. Do you want me to go with you?" he asked willing to go but feeling no real need of accompanying me.

"No, I can take care of it tonight," I answered, shaking my head confident I could handle it. I hadn't been punished but I didn't get off scot-free.

I ran back that evening and pushed, pulled and dragged the car from its watery grave. I went about destroying all evidence that anything unusual happened to the car, such as my perfect hand impressions in the side panel. Then I left the dripping car on its side in the ditch. I also gathered the debris that made it into the winter fallow fields, and tossed them into the ditch with the car before returning home.

There were no calls from the police to inquire about an abandoned car registered to Carlisle. A local farmer probably stripped it of anything that was useful and melted the rest into smithing metal. Waste not want not.

Before we were to go to the city Carlisle wanted to see how controlled I could be with repairmen in the house. I agreed, thinking I could do it, if I didn't breathe. He thought I had the resolve to survive the test.

Carlisle stood with me in the main hall as the first workmen drove up to the house, but I was too apprehensive and couldn't stay. I just couldn't do it, so I chickened out the first day, the first minute. I turned and ran through the back door. He followed me only to make sure I wasn't feinting, and heading around toward the men.

Instead of running to the forest I went swimming. I ran to the river behind the house. On our small boat dock I stripped down to my shorts and jumped in. I swam downstream to the lake. I spent a lot of time under water because the sun would occasionally shine and there were pleasure boats cruising the warm December morning. I was bored because it was so murky there wasn't much to see but I didn't want to go home so I just stayed at the bottom of the lake for a while. Occasionally, I was entertained by the slow arrival but fast departure of some very large sturgeon.

I came back to the house when the workmen were gone for the day and let my breaths rip the flaming scent in and out of my throat and lungs. All evening I felt the venom flow and my stomach twist in anticipation as I paced the floor enduring the self-inflicted torment. Carlisle's calm mind undisturbed by the scent was my only refuge. By morning their scent was gone just background like the neighbors scent. I was hunting only two or three times a week and it seemed enough. Still I was fearful and didn't trust myself.

I tried to stay each day but when they were about to walk in I ran out the backdoor. By the end of the week the concentrated scent I was exposed to in the evening was not as tempting however I wasn't about to disappoint Carlisle. He had more faith in me than I deserved.

In five days the workmen had repaired the walls and the new front door was in. I had managed to stay in the house on the last day, but I was neither in the same room with them nor was I breathing. I was more afraid I would disappoint Carlisle again than I was afraid of hurting the workers.

I had a renewed appreciation for Carlisle's abilities as he stood breathing normally watching the men work. He was wishing I had more confidence in myself but he did not deny me my escape. As I hid in my room, I _heard_ that he wished he could restrain me, make me stay close to him, to prove that I had the strength to resist the temptation.

But this way I guaranteed that no one died.

oo00oo

"_Yes!_" the beast snarled gleefully seeing the crowds of people in my memory.

"No, that isn't going to happen," I snarled back.

We were hunting before going to my house in the center of Chicago and I had just had enough to keep me safe. I hadn't over indulged and I was spotless. I was in control, or so I kept telling myself

"Do you want to go?" Carlisle asked after hearing me talk to myself.

"Yes," I said firmly but the beast chuckled at me, gloating over its power, thinking if it got that close to the city it could break free. I ignored it.

"I know if you keep telling me I can do it _and_ if I don't breathe I'll be alright with going. Correct?" _I_ _am_ in control, I thought stubbornly.

"Yes, you will. You can do this. I know you can, and you _need_ to know you can do this," Carlisle said confidently.


	28. Fool's Errand

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

28 FOOLS ERRAND

I resolved to focus on retrieving my family's things which was all that was important. Carlisle no longer worked at the hospital but he was anxious to get back to work so we needed to move. I wanted to get the irreplaceable items from my home before we left.

The thirst was contained. I still felt satiated no matter what the beast thought. I was more in control than it was right now.

Carlisle was right I needed to test myself. I had managed to evade most of my 'safe' test at home with the workmen. Nevertheless, I needed to know that I was able to be around people without going berserk. I was reasonably sure I could, I had not attacked the workmen, but there was always a nagging self doubt.

It was winter and cold except I didn't feel it. I knew it was cold because there was snow on the ground. We still hunted barefoot, and the snow felt soft against my feet. The snow didn't melt or get slushy, we were the same temperature. It was very strange to me at first.

We were just two kids playing, kicking up the snow drifts, making and throwing snowballs and tightly packed ice balls. Try as he might he could never catch me or ever hit me, though I pelted him with almost everyone I threw. I saw his every move before he could make it, even as fast as his mind was, I was faster ,yet he still tried to hit me.

His persistence was rewarded, in a way. I jumped backwards away from his rapid succession of flying snowballs only to bump into a tree behind me. I had leapt high and when I hit the tree, consequently it dropped its entire load of snow. I came down with the avalanche. Snow covered my head and shoulders; it went down my collar and under my shirt and piled around me up to my hips. He laughed hysterically at my annoyance. He was satisfied with my 'icing' and the bombardment came to an end.

Carlisle started telling me about the few snow days he remembered from his human days. It didn't snow often in London, so it had been a significant event in his young life. He had already told me so many of his strange, frightening and wonderful tales from his long journey to get here but not this one, this story from his human life. I fell back in the snow listening to his new story and he joined me. We stretched out and watched the snow come down, silently covering us. It was nice when we were like this, playing and telling stories. Almost like being human, except we were lying barefoot in the snow in only a shirt and slacks we had no need for protection from the cold.

I started thinking about going into the city again. I knew we needed to dress appropriately in Chicago. I didn't know if I even had a coat. I guessed I'd borrow one of Carlisle's.

As we were getting dressed to leave I found that I indeed had a coat, along with hat, gloves and boots. Carlisle stood next to me holding the closet door open laughing at my bewilderment. Not only did I have all these things, I had an assortment of them. I had choices of color and fabric. I also had several suits and even a tuxedo. I hadn't looked in the larger of the two closets in my room before but I was looking now, my mouth a gape.

"Yes, I got them for you," he said responding to my unasked question. "You didn't know they were here?" he asked, shaking his head in surprise at my lack of knowledge. I could clearly see in his memory of hanging the clothes in the closet himself. I must have been out running or hunting.

"I didn't have a clue. You hid this from me?" I asked rather baffled, wondering how he had kept it from me.

"I wasn't hiding them; after all they are in _your_ closet in _your_ room. I guess that I just had other things on my mind when I was around you. This just wasn't as important. But…I'm surprised you didn't smell them." He was a bit confused himself.

I thought about that, not smelling them, something must have distracted me so that I didn't notice the smell of the new clothes. But there were times when I didn't go to my room for days. No, I had other new fabric items in my room that would account for the new fabric smell neutralizing my curiosity. But I was still perplexed staring at my new wardrobe options. I was humbled; I wasn't as omniscient as I had started to believe myself to be.

_This is good_, I thought. _I need a little humility, especially today._

"I was busy while I was in town not only working but getting you ready for your eventual debut to the outside world. You only think you have had things to learn. Wait until you can go out into the world and have to 'act' human!" Carlisle continued to chuckle as I stood still gaping at my closet. He left to get himself ready for our excursion into the big city. He did it on an almost daily basis; he had confidence in his knowledge. This was my first time going into the city, as a vampire, an unpredictable newborn vampire.

I needed the fresh perspective because I had to be alert.

_I shouldn't be as dependent on one capability, remarkable as it was, it wasn't all of me._ My thoughts were very determined even as apprehension started to sneak in.

oo00oo

Carlisle looked me over. I was dressed in a winter gray wool suit and black boots; over which I wore a dark wool overcoat, black hat, dark green scarf and black leather gloves. I looked a proper young gentleman when I viewed myself through his eyes, except for my blood red irises. He smiled, pleased with my choices. He, of course, looked impeccable.

He had another surprise for me but this one I had seen. I had recognized the key fob as the one my father carried with him. He pulled the house key from his pocket and handed it to me. Holding it in my hand was different than knowing he had it and seeing it through his eyes. I clutched it lightly not wanting to bend it, thinking of my father, and slid it undamaged into my pocket.

"Let's go," I sighed emotionally. The beast growled with glee and I gritted my teeth with determination.

We went into the city in Carlisle's car. The man had style, his car was an elegant vehicle; a brand new 1918 Type 57 Cadillac touring car. Yes, it was nice to be rich. Two large wooden crates, with smaller crates and boxes inside them, filled the backseat.

As we drove away from the house, I got a flash of his vision, the two of us racing identical new Roadsters side by side down a lonely stretch of pitch dark road. We could run faster but we still liked driving a car fast. We liked it a lot.

His car was faster than my father's had been but it was still slow; I would have hated to see this car fly into the river. Cars still had their uses, like now. We could fill it up with my belongings.

The sky was heavily overcast and snow continued to fall. Fresh undisturbed snow covered the gravel road; no one was traveling out here in the country. The car just flew through the drifts. Not once did Carlisle deviate from the road, he had it memorized. When we reached the first paved road I saw ice but Carlisle's driving was sure and confident, we didn't skid or swerve.

Mischievously, I wondered about skidding on purpose, playing with the dangerously icy road, but not in his car. Not this one. I thought maybe I'd buy an inexpensive car and play on the ice in it. The thought of spinning uncontrollably on the ice or of another car flying through the air made me chuckle.

The city got closer and I had to get serious. I had the buzzing of voices in my head muted to where they were a background roar. I stopped breathing and the beast was furious with me.

_I refuse to breathe, even once_, I guaranteed the beast.

"Edward!" I heard my name. Not calling me, I thought and ignored the speaker. "Edward." Another person called for someone, not me. As we drove toward the city _Edward_, _Edward_, started ringing in my head. My muscles twitched to pull my face toward the speaker, three then four times I heard my name. Ok, I can handle this.

Then, oh no! _Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward, Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward,_ _Edward, _minds were filled with the same face from different perspectives all thinking or calling the name – Edward. Someone introduced him to a room full of people, my head twitched toward each speaker. Like there were a hundred Edward Tells next door, it was a nightmare. Each mind was in mine. Each thought about the man they were looking at. It was more than I could take. Unlike the buzzing thoughts I had tried to cram in the compartment in my brain these I could do nothing about until I recognized that they were not calling me.

"Carlisle! Stop," I yelled. The car came to a screeching halt. "Turn around and drive about a mile back. Please!" I begged holding my head in my hands. My head was in constant motion. Carlisle turned toward me and stared for a split second and then did as I asked.


	29. The Edward Problem

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

29 THE EDWARD PROBLEM

The voices faded as he brought the car to another stop. I sighed with relief but released none of my precious air.

"Edward, what is happening?" he said alarmed. Being the doctor that he was his first impulse was to check for signs of distress. He reached for me and put his hand on my head as if to check for a fever. He breathed in the air around me, but it didn't work on me. He was frustrated when he realized that he couldn't really help me and I hadn't answered him.

"Too many Edwards in that neighborhood," I squeezed out the words trying my best not to use up all my air. I twitched to a single call of "Edward" nearby, trying to figure a way to cope with my uncontrollable reaction to my name.

"We need to talk, so you need to breathe," Carlisle said seriously and drove the car back into the countryside. He stopped the car where he detected little human scent. I took a normal breath.

"What is going on?" Carlisle asked as he turned to face me.

"The name thing," I sighed frustrated. "I can't control my reaction to my name when I hear it. There was a huge crowd and someone introduced Edward, hundreds of them said or thought his name. It was just too much," I growled out the words.

Carlisle sat thinking for a while, and came up with an interesting idea. "It's a survival instinct, Edward. If someone is calling your name you needed to know it."

I started thinking of it differently; those other Edwards weren't out to torture me. My brain was just trying to protect me. My brain was incredibly fast, so I could flit though the thoughts very quickly and dismiss them as important, unimportant or non-threatening, before they built up and overwhelmed me.

Now that I had a strategy, I asked Carlisle to slowly drive back toward the city. Each time I heard my name my head did start to move toward the speaker but by that time I had already dismissed it as unimportant and my head stopped moving. When we reached the area where I had heard so many calling out my name, the party had settled down and the frequency was within my tolerance level.

We continued our drive into the city, I began to notice that my range for these 'voices' was less than a mile. As we entered the inner city the beast growled and quivered in frustration, the nearness of so many warm bodies was working on my resolve. I kept my eyes averted from the few people on the street. I was watching the movement of the faint shadow of Carlisle's arm as he steered the car, and stared at a slow moving ant crossing the floorboard giving my eyes distractions where I needed distractions.

We ran into another smaller party with a couple of Edwards attending. My increased head twitches warned Carlisle and he sped up leaving the area.

Meanwhile, Carlisle was great with mental encouragement. He kept me focused where I needed to focus and I kept the beast caged. The hardest part was hearing the bustle of the city, the actual voices then not looking at it through Carlisle's eyes. I hummed or sang low in an attempt to mask the sounds from my ears.

Suddenly I realized that it was Christmas time. The voices I was attempting to block were calling Christmas greetings. I groaned as I knew even more people were out and about. The snow that would usually keep people inside now made them feel cheery and social, especially since the war had ended and men were returning home from Europe. The radio and newspapers had also recently announced that influenza cases had decreased significantly, the pandemic was over.

The two events that changed everything in my life were now things of the past.

I stared down at my gloved hands avoiding the sight of people crowding the city streets and thought of my aspiration of going to war. Had I really expected to come home a hero or had I been willing to give up my life to rescue others? I was unsure of my former expectations. Had I only thought of the glory and not the possibility of death? I don't think I even considered the potential of dying on the battlefield, I had been that naive.

I vaguely remembered my vivid dreams of being the soldier hero and saving the innocent. Most of the dreams I remembered had ended, if not strangely, at least well. I realized glumly that I missed dreaming, something I could no longer do.

My mood darkened as I half listened to Carlisle reassuring me I was stronger than I thought. _Edward_, _Edward, _someone called and I twitched.

The war was over, Mother would have been happy, and my eighteenth birthday was still six months away. I could celebrate the anniversary of my birth but I would never reach my eighteenth year because of the influenza. Another thing I hadn't considered was the potential of dying from the influenza.

I noticed that I was getting disturbingly moodier the closer we got to my previous home and the 'Edward' twitches were not helping.

"We're here," Carlisle said. He stopped the car and pulled on the parking brake.

I finally looked up. He parked on the street where I had parked my father's car, ages ago it seemed. Seeing the house for the first time in over three months, knowing that there was no one there waiting for me was distressing.

Anyone watching would think that there was definitely something wrong with me, but the movement was much less than an hour ago. My head moved in the direction of Edward who was having a birthday party and Edward who was playing with three friends and a few other Edwards nearby.

I focused on the front door as we walked up the steps and I pulled the key from my pocket. Opening the door, not knowing what to expect, was nerve racking.

The door opened smoothly, the entry area was as I remembered it. Someone, probably the caretaker, had cleaned the floors. No trace remained of my blood streaked crawl to the front door.

Carlisle watched me as I took two steps into the entry hall and stood surveying the area. He closed the door.

"Is this tolerable?" he asked concerned by my lack of movement. _Remember do not breathe._

I nodded imperceptibly, distracted by so many memories. I was seeing the place in a whole different way with my enhanced eyes, remembering the reason for this nick in the wood or that crack in the plaster. Fuzzy human memories attached to vivid visual cues. The world outside faded away, except for an occasional Edward twitch.

He lifted the hat off my head and hung it on an empty coat hook. I absently pulled off the gloves and scarf and sat them on the entry table and shrugged out of my overcoat placing it on a hook.

"Go upstairs. I'll get the caretaker to help me get the crates into the house, and then I'll have him leave while we are here," Carlisle told me interrupting my nostalgic musings. _Although I don't really need him, I can't use my strength that obviously so I'll ask for help. It is the human thing to do._

I nodded again, he was always teaching. I walked slowly up the staircase, my eyes darting to every little nick on the railing, scratch on the wall, and stain on the carpet. The house echoed even though it wasn't empty. Then I heard the excited thoughts and heartbeat of the caretaker coming from the back of the house. He was aware of our entrance and was anxious. I ran up the stairs, still refusing to breathe, and the beast growled in irritation.


	30. Memories and Discovery

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

30 MEMORIES AND DISCOVERY

I went straight to my room but it didn't seem to be mine. I was no longer the person who had lived here. Someone had also cleaned this room, they had neatly folded the quilt I had shivered under and placed it on the end of the freshly made bed. Vague and hazy memories flooded through me again. I glanced over my bookcase deciding which books to take with me. I thought briefly about taking my awards and baseball gloves but changed my mind. That life was over.

I heard the kitchen door open and its familiar creak. I listened as Carlisle enlisted the help of the caretaker and they brought in the crates and boxes. The caretaker had been waiting in the kitchen for Carlisle. Descriptions of both of us had been given to him and he had instructions to avoid me. He didn't know why, he speculated that I was either crazy or diseased. He greeted Carlisle cordially and assisted him almost cheerfully, keeping his eyes roving for any sign of me. As soon as the crates were in the entry hall he immediately left us alone in the house.

"He's gone. You can come down if …_you want to_…," Carlisle called. I anticipated his invitation and ran down the stairs interrupting his statement. My 'Edward' twitch was like having hiccups and thought they were irritating I was beginning to be at peace with them.

Carlisle stood watching me wander for a moment. "I'll go put some of these boxes upstairs. You can let me know what you want to pack up and I'll help. I will take everything to the car; you don't need to be outside until we leave." A nod was my only reply.

I roamed through every room downstairs except father's study. I was glad the door was closed because I couldn't face it yet. I thought about what I would take with me and what would happen to everything if I left it then realized that at some time in the future I could possibly come back and stay in this house. I could never sell it and didn't need to, the thought made me happy. Hopefully in the future I would be able to ignore my name and not have to deal with this twitch or an untamed thirsty beast.

I went back upstairs and stood in the doorway of my mother's room and had to force myself to enter. I had never rummaged through my parents' rooms before so I did it with sadness. I would have wept if I'd been able.

I tentatively opened the top drawer of her dresser and was stunned to see so many jewelry boxes. She only wore a few pieces so I was amazed at the amount of jewelry that my mother had. I opened the boxes and found them filled with rings, earrings, necklaces, bracelets and gemstone pendants on gold chains in beautiful cases. Some of them she had inherited from her mother but my father obviously gave her lots of gifts.

Her wedding ring was sitting on the dresser where I assumed she had left it before leaving for the hospital. I pulled one of the other rings out of a box and placed her wedding ring inside and put it into my pocket. I packed the other jewelry in a wooden box to go home with me.

Cotton cloth covers protected all of the furniture and paintings in the house. I pulled the sheet off of mother's favorite painting. The painting of an angel caring for a sick child. The angel's coloring was similar to Carlisle's and the ill child had red hair similar to mine.

I looked at the painting appraisingly and then I realized it _was_ Carlisle. It was a human's poor attempt to capture Carlisle. It was unnaturally beautiful to human eyes, of course, but it didn't do Carlisle justice. Still I could tell it was him by what the artist was able to capture. The unique way he held his body, the tilt of his head and the way he held his fingers as his hand reached out to the child. That's why he had felt familiar. Except for the wings, I had seen a version him almost every day of my life.

The painting had been in my mother's family for generations. I looked at the date on the canvas, 1753. Carlisle was in Italy about that time. He had told me about the artists that had painted him and the other vampires because of their ethereal beauty. One of the paintings was hanging in his room. The artist did get one other thing right about Carlisle in this painting, he was a healer.

No wonder mother had looked at him oddly that first moment she had seen him walk through our door. She thought the angel had come for a visit.

I walked out of her room and stood in the doorway of my father's room visualizing what she would have seen that dark early morning. She must have had a precognitive notion that he was there to save me instead of taking me as her other children had been taken.

I doubted he would make any connection with the painting and mother's bizarre demand but I covered it again and left it hanging in her room where it should be. That blonde angel was indirectly responsible for my new life.

I thought of our former cook Elsa as I went through mother's things. I had grown up eating what she cooked for us. She was another person I had figured out by her hum, and she always made special dishes just for me. She sang while she cooked and made up songs to entertain me when I was very young. I got my love of music from her, and that love was probably why I didn't fight my mother's insistence on piano lessons.

Thinking of her, I packed up a few of mother's nicer dresses and coats in a large suitcase. Mother had given her some of her clothing before and she was appreciative. Later I packed up the set of china she had admired in a large picnic basket and placed a chest of silver flatware on top of the suitcase. I had no way of knowing if Elsa had survived the influenza and I wouldn't ask. Carlisle's aide would deliver my offerings to her sister's home where she would have gone when she recovered. I quickly penned a note informing her of the sad fact that my parents had died and thanked her for her loyal service. If she hadn't survived her sister could keep or sell the things.

I also included a letter of reference for both her and the housekeeper. I was hoping that they both had survived and would need a referral to get another position. I didn't know the new housekeeper as well as I had known Elsa but I felt an obligation to her also.

Carlisle and I emptied both my parents' closets, chests and dressers. Carlisle packed their clothing and my old clothes, I was much thinner now, as well in the large crates for charity. I couldn't wear any of my father's things but I knew someone would appreciate the good clothing. Shortly the two large crates sat on the floor inside the front door full of clothing. I would leave them for Carlisle's aide to distribute.

Father had a gold and a silver pocket watch and several gold and gemstone cufflinks and tie tacks which I added to the box of mother's jewelry. I packed up some books from my room, and a few from the bookcase in the parlor, my sheet music, all of the family photographs and one small painting mother had collected that I did want.

Then Carlisle began loading the car.

The neighbors hadn't seen us when we first arrived but someone noticed that Carlisle was removing things from the house. Instead of asking him what he was doing, they called the police.


	31. Unexpected Visitors

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

31 UNEXPECTED VISITORS

"I am helping my nephew, Edward, move a few things," Carlisle said casually.

I heard my name, I twitched but this time it was important. A policeman had walked up to Carlisle, who was loading a box into the car, and asked him what his business was at this house. Through Carlisle's eyes I saw the young policeman standing in front of him and in the distance I saw a nosy neighbor standing on her porch, though she hadn't been the one to call the police she watched smugly. I was touched that she would watch out for us but it was a little awkward at the moment.

"Where is the young man?" the officer asked, eyeing the car. He knew it was a very expensive vehicle and was sure his trip here was a waste of time.

I ran downstairs, opened the only closed door and sat in a chair in the darkest corner of father's study. I knew I had to be somewhere that they wouldn't notice that my eyes were still crimson.

"I'm in my father's study; it's really dark in here but I have no air to speak," I said swiftly to Carlisle hissing out the tiny bit of air in my lungs, knowing no one could hear but him.

He had told me not to breathe and I really didn't want to, but I needed to be able to speak. I knew I needed to answer at least a few questions.

_Breathe now, breathe deep, you can do this,_ Carlisle encouraged me. _I'll tell them you're ill. They won't bother you long._

His thoughts told me that he had caught little human scent in parts of the house so the closed room would probably be pretty safe place for me to breathe.

His confidence strengthened me so I held onto the arms of the chair and took a tentative breath. Since no one had been in this room for several months there was almost no scent here. I took a deep breath and found the scent was less than I had been exposed to from the workers being in our house. Carlisle's test was helping. Relieved that I didn't get lungs full of burning scent I relaxed.

"Carlisle, you were right the air is not bad in here. I'm ready, come on in," I said with relief and took another deep breath forcing more air into my lungs before they entered the house.

Carlisle and the officer were walking up the porch stairs to the front door. Carlisle also noticed the neighbor standing on her front porch, smiling smugly.

"Edward's in the study. Um, do you need someone who can identify him?" Carlisle asked somewhat louder than necessary. The neighbor heard him, as he had hoped.

"Officer, I know the people who live in the house. I could tell you if it is really Edward or not," she yelled from her porch.

"Yes ma'am, please come with me," the officer invited her to enter the house.

Even though she wasn't the caller, she was enjoying the inclusion in the exciting neighborhood event. She moved carefully down her stairs to avoid slipping on the ice and snow. She joined them at the front door, eyeing Carlisle suspiciously even though she thought he was a very handsome thief.

I heard the actual caller's 'voice' when she thought my name as she heard the conversation. Across the street an elderly recluse who I had never met, watched the activity through a small opening in her draperies. She knew about looters and was sure Carlisle was one.

The policeman opened the front door and they all walked in. I had to concentrate on what was going on around me and everything else faded away.

"Edward, the police and your neighbor want to know if it is really you," Carlisle said loudly leading the way to the study.

_Edward…_ _Edward…_ _Edward.._.

Not now! My head was twitching as the all neighbors who had seen the policeman and Carlisle were now thinking about me being home.

"What? Who is it?" I asked softly, sounding confused, trying not to use much air.

"He is recovering from influenza and is very weak. He is sensitive to light so he is in the dark. I'm his uncle and we are moving him to a live with me since both his parents died. I was trying to get his family's personal items out without burdening him but he insisted on being here," Carlisle explained as he slowly led them to the room where I was sitting.

I kept jumping from mind to mind to see how Carlisle's story was playing out. I used this distraction to keep from acknowledging that the beast was about to come face to face with its dream meal and this time I had nowhere to run.

Carlisle entered the room and moved to stand next to me. The light from the hall was just enough for everything in the room not in the sliver of direct light to be shades of gray, that included me and my blood red eyes. He placed a hand on my shoulder as a supportive friendly gesture, but in fact, it was an iron grip reminding me that he could hurt me to keep me from hurting them. I knew it was only a threat but it was a good threat, it kept me from moving.

"I'm okay," I whispered so softly and rapidly that no one but Carlisle could have heard it. He squeezed my shoulder slightly but let up a little.

The policeman entered next followed by the neighbor.

"Hello, Mrs. McNeil, how are you?" I asked in a weak voice with a soft gurgle. They were less than ten feet from me. Venom filled my mouth, muscles tensed and my stomach knotted. I couldn't smell a thing but I could hear their hearts pounding in their chests; hear the rush of blood through their veins. I could feel the heat radiating from their bodies. I shivered as the beast shrieked in my head – _TAKE A BREATH – LET ME GO_.

No! I gritted my teeth and resisted. Carlisle felt me shiver and squeezed harder on my shoulder but sent me calming thoughts.

_You are in control! _He thought.

I knew he'd also smelled the rush of venom. He, on the contrary, had no such reaction to their presence. I nodded, lying to him as I leaned on his certainty. He let up a little and I wished he hadn't.

She gasped seeing me, pale and apparently very weak. My 'Edward' twitch pulling my head in many different directions made me seem as if I was on the verge of convulsions. She covered her mouth and backed away into the hallway as if I would make her sick.

_Good,_ I thought,_ nosy old…stop it… she's only trying to help._ I was ashamed of myself. It wasn't her fault part of me wanted to kill her.

"Yes, this is young Edward," she told the officer. She blushed as she thought I looked too handsome to be so pale or sick, trying to remember how old I was. The beast wailed in my head as I watched her cheeks flush pink with blood. I gripped the chair arms tighter, listening to Carlisle's certainty that I was able to control myself.

"Hello Edward. I'm fine," she answered standing in the hallway peering in at me, and then she began asking questions without waiting for answers.

"So you are moving? Both your parents died, huh? How was the funeral? Are you going to sell the house?"

She knew my parents were dead and she had met the caretaker. She was just prattling on, embarrassed, now that it was certain we were legitimate.

I looked up at Carlisle panicked, his grip on me tightened as he saw the alarm in my eyes and felt my arms quiver as I held myself down in the chair. I couldn't answer all those questions; he needed to remove these temptations.

"Get them out of here," I whispered quickly.

"I'm sorry, but since you now know we aren't thieves, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. He isn't well and we do need to finish up here quickly," Carlisle pleasantly interrupted her, his grip on me had not lessened.

With great difficulty I tried to concentrate on how they were reacting to the conversation but the beast was making an attempt to break free. I increased my grip on the arms of the chair and could feel the dense wood snap and crumble beneath the upholstery.

Carlisle heard the noise. _They'll be gone in a moment - keep hold of yourself. You are doing well._

_No, I'm NOT doing well. _I wanted to scream. _Hurry! Get them out of here._

"Oh-kay!" The policeman, exhaled, relieved. "Since everything is copacetic here, I'll be on my way. Ma'am, please follow me." Obviously he was ready to leave as soon as possible, also afraid of catching what I had.

His moist warm breath passed over my face. I grimaced and slipped my feet behind the legs of the chair to keep myself seated as the beast struggled to be free.

"Thank you for watching out for us, Mrs. McNeil," I murmured in a soft voice as she turned from the doorway, trying to be courteous, before the beast broke free and killed her.

_No, I am in control,_ I told myself stubbornly, reaching inward knowing I was satiated. I was the one in charge. I started listening to their minds again as they left.

"You're welcome, young man, get well soon. Sorry about your parents. Have a Merry Christmas anyway," she called as she walked away leading the policeman down the hall and out the door.

The policeman was glad that his feeling was right and there wasn't a confrontation. He was ready to go home for his dinner, it was already past midday.

_I'm going to follow them out to the door. Are you all right? _Carlisle looked down at me reluctant to let go of my shoulder. I concentrated on sitting still and Carlisle's mind only. I tried to block out everything and everyone else, especially the beast.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Another lie, I wasn't fine but I thought I could remain in the chair on my own.

_Don't move. Just stay here until I get back. _Carlisle released his grip and walked out the door.

I nodded in answer, my whole body began to tremble as my attempt at blocking the beast began to crumble. I clung desperately to Carlisle's strength. My hands gripping the chair arms so tightly I was crushing the upholstery now. I wanted to rush out of the room and run away but I knew there was nowhere to run. I was surrounded by the city, by millions of people. The safest place for me right now was where I was sitting. The thought was both frightening and strangely comforting, that I was safe in my own home.


	32. Into the Pit of Hell

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

32 INTO THE PIT OF HELL

The beast wailed as the luscious sounds of hot rushing blood and beating hearts moved farther and farther away. He wanted me to rush out of the room also but for a different reason.

That was the closest I had been to a living human so far. There was so much more to consider not just the smell and taste, which I had blocked, but there was the sound of thumping hearts and rushing blood, the heat radiating off of them, the humidity of their breath. Then there was the flush of blood coloring the woman's face when she saw me. Carlisle didn't see the additional triggers; he didn't know to warn me so I was under prepared.

I needed something to occupy my mind but thinking about this probably wasn't the best idea as I pushed myself back into the seat, again. I'd resisted but if I hadn't been as prepared as I was I might have failed even grasping onto Carlisle's solid beliefs.

When the front door closed Carlisle came back and looked me in the eye. I saw through his eyes; my face was distressed and darkly moody. My teeth were clenched and in my fists were the powdered remains of the upholstered chair arms.

"You handled that very well. I was afraid that we were in trouble."

The first part was not true and the second was an understatement.

"It was close but you got me through it. Your mind is what held me in the chair not your grip," I whispered using up the last of my air. I recognized that now the temptation was gone I was once again in control of myself.

Carlisle smiled and was happy. I smiled back.

Again no one had died.

I was amazed that I found lying easy even though they were little lies, but I was ashamed I'd lied to Carlisle. He thought I was so much stronger than I was. I wanted to please him, and I wanted him to know he was right. To please him I was going to try to be as close to his vision of me as I could and since I was now a liar I'd lie about the rest.

Honestly, without the strength in Carlisle's mind to augment my struggle against the beast, at times I would be lost. I needed to find my own way to subdue the thirst's drive. I couldn't blindly depend on my mind reading and I shouldn't persistently depend on Carlisle for my strength.

"Let's get back to work so we can get out of here," he said.

I nodded my head eagerly and headed back upstairs. The traumatic reinforcement of the idea of looters in my house started me rethinking about the irreplaceable items in the house. I stood in the hallway in front of my mother's room, the painting of Carlisle was definitely one of those items deciding that it needed to go home with us. I entered her room, took the painting off the wall and set in the hall just outside the door.

I looked around the room wondering if there was anything else that needed to come with us and remembered the taste of the air in my father's study, the very faint scent that I assumed was my father's. I wondered what my mother's scent was like. Her room hadn't been cleaned like mine had been. She hadn't slept in it so it was undisturbed when we were taken to the hospital and the door had remained open.

I was curious. Would her scent be faint like his was, would I even be able to smell it, and would I know it? I stood next to her bed and breathing through my nose I filled my lungs with air. I had unknowingly pulled some of the neighbor's and the policeman's scent with me, but it wasn't as strong as the scents I was use to after the workers had left the house, it burned but was not overwhelming. What was amazing was I knew my mother's lingering scent immediately. Removing er clothing and other things in her room had disturbed the air, reviving her scent making it stronger than expected.

It was sweet and appealing and the beast responded with its ravenous hunger.

I was horror-struck. I exhaled trying to expel the tempting fragrance from my body but it was on my tongue and in my memory now. I felt violently ill.

There was no possibility… I wouldn't… couldn't … no chance.

My entire being rejected the thought completely. I stood fists clenched at my temples, my teeth clenched and jaw locked as I fought the monster within. I couldn't even imagine the pain I would be in if I was responsible for what the beast wanted, if she were here, now.

Carlisle's fervent conviction that life was precious hit me from a totally unexpected perspective, one I couldn't ignore. I fully grasped that _everyone_ had a mother and father and everyone was someone's child but the beast didn't care, it only wanted what it wanted.

I had been thrust into the deepest pit of hell and had to find my way out. In my struggle I stood motionless in her room, for how long I don't know, but I knew _my_ self-control was the only thing between them and the beast.

Carlisle called to me. I couldn't answer.

Carlisle's POV

_The car is packed, are you ready to go?_ I called to Edward.

No answer.

I went up the stairs looking for Edward, since he wasn't breathing I had no cues where to find him, he wasn't moving. I walked passed his father's bedroom following his scent to his mother's. He was standing in the middle of his mother's room. From the look on his face and his fists clenched at his temples, he was obviously dealing with complex emotions.

I didn't want to disturb him. He would come to me or call if he needed me. He knew I was there for him. He had a painting by the door ready to go down to the car. I picked it up and carried it down with me.

I turned the painting around to see what else he was taking with him. The other painting he chose to bring along was a beautiful landscape of a small sunlit meadow surrounded by trees. This old oil painting was of an angel comforting a young red haired boy. It must have been his mother's favorite.

I took the painting to the car and as I sat it in the back with the other painting his mother's whispered words came back to me, 'Oh angel, it's true'. I suddenly though she must have been addressing this painting.

The angel was blonde and resembled me but… I quickly looked at the canvas for a signature, '1753 E. Dontiago'. I was startled. Emilio was one of the artists I had told Edward about so I probably was his model for this one. He was constantly sketching so I had no idea how many other paintings he completed portraying me in some ethereal guise. I wondered for only a second, of course Edward knew it was me. Edward was gathering his irreplaceable items together, and he thought this was one of them.

A frustrating question popped into my mind, and more frustrating because it could never be answered. If his mother had believed that I was an angel sent to take care of Edward, why had she shown me his red eyes turning amber? What had she _known_?

Edward's frame of mind might not be able to cope with even my mild frustration so I moved the thought to the back of my mind and dealt with the situation at hand. I went back into the house.

I waited for Edward at the bottom of the stairs. I felt he had dealt with the police incident very well but he may have had other feelings on the subject. Although he seemed to be all right when he headed upstairs moments ago, he was overwrought now. The visit home was psychologically very complicated all by itself. The ghosts of his parents had to be everywhere. The stress of being in the city and having to control himself physically around so much temptation was daunting. Adding the mentally demanding ordeal with close human interaction, it was a wonder he was coping at all.

I thought about our happiness and his incredible strength of will, hoping it would help him through whatever emotions had besieged him.

Almost an hour later as he descended the stairs, I was still unsure of Edwards's state of mind. His eyes were hard, his jaw tightened and his hands clenched into fists. I watched him as he willfully put on his coat, hat, scarf and gloves; each movement was as if he was purposely donning his role as a human. He had struggled with something very significant but he wouldn't or couldn't speak. He was clearly in firm control of himself but I reminded him again not to breathe. He glanced at me with his hard eyes then quickly looked away but not before I saw profound grief, bordering on despair, tugging at the corners of his mouth and eyes.


	33. Back from the Brink

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

33 BACK FROM THE BRINK

Carlisle's POV

_Ready to go home?_ Putting mental emphasis on our 'home'.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly .

_I will lock the front door – the key?_ I took the house key from his outstretched hand. He did not look up at me but I noticed that his hands were no longer fists.

Edward and I walked out of the house and I locked the door. It was an early twilight, the heavy cloud cover had added several hours to the gray evening gloom.

He walked to the car with his head down; his head twitching was a constant thing now. I needed to get him out of the city.

I opened the car door for him, settled him in the front seat, put the house key back into his gloved hand, and he stared at it. I grabbed the starter crank from the floorboard, closed the car door and went to the front to start the engine.

A boy about twelve years old came running up and banged on the passenger door.

_Bang! _"Edward?" _Bang!_ "Edward! They say you're moving away," he yelled, in a pained voice. "Don't leave. You can't. You said you'd play baseball with me this spring."

He stood with his mittened hands on the edge of the door his face almost pressed against the cold metal. His breath fogged the paint so he wiped away the moisture as he looked up at Edward. His face was eagerly expectant.

I stood at the front of the car, watching Edward through the windshield. I could see him struggling; the expression on his face went through many emotions but I saw no hint of bloodlust in any of them.

_You can deal with this,_ I told him confidently. _He was a friend?_ I asked.

He nodded.

He must have finally decided on his course of action for looked over at the young man.

"Edward?" the boy said anxiously, looking as though he could cry. He probably didn't like the extreme sadness on Edward's face. I know I didn't.

"Sorry Benny, I'm not well. I don't think I would ever be able to play ball with you again. You will find someone else to play with you. I'm sure you will," his thin raspy voice told the boy.

Edward kept his eyes squinted as he spoke to the young man. He managed a reasonable fake smile. I walked up to stand next to the boy.

"I don't know where we will be moving to, but we are leaving Chicago," Edward told him.

I could tell that he had used almost all of the air he had in his lungs.

_Do you want to give him your glove? I know you didn't pack it. _I suggested.

Edward eyes blinked in surprise. His face brightened, he liked the idea and he nodded.

_Do you want to go get it? You can breathe in your room and talk to him again when you come out. Remember that you are ill; it should take you a few minutes to gather everything._

He nodded again.

Since Edward couldn't speak, I said, "You could give him your glove since you don't need it anymore." I looked down at Benny. "If you would like."

"Really? Oh, that would be keen." He looked from Edward to me smiling, his eyes bright and wide.

Edward nodded really smiling now. He opened the car door and walked slowly to the house.

"Wait here with me, Benny. He needs to say goodbye to his baseball career," I said to him in a loud whisper, when he started to follow Edward. _I'll bet you play better now with no need for a glove._ I thought laughingly, trying to lighten Edwards's mood even more.

The boy looked up at me sadly. "He won't get to play again?"

"He will never play like he used to, that is certain," I said ambiguously.

Once inside the house I heard him race to his room and take a breath. "That's a fact!" Edwards's soft rejoiner came to only my ears. In his voice I noticed that he was much less distressed.

Benny and I talked about his favorite team and how they were going to do in the spring when they started playing again. Edward returned a few minutes later. He locked the front door and approached us with a big grin and his eyes wide.

_Your eyes!_ I thought alarmed. I could see his red eyes clearly.

"It is too dark. He can't tell the color of your eyes so he won't see mine," he whispered quickly. He had insight into what the boy could actually see that I didn't have.

A baseball glove was resting on top of a small box in his hands and in the crook of his arm hung his bat.

"Here Benny, you can have both of my gloves, my bat and all my baseballs. I know you will put them to good use," he said encouragingly.

"Benjamin Thane!" Mrs. McNeil yelled from her doorway. "Leave Edward alone! He needs to get out of the cold! Go home!" She stood there glaring in our direction.

"Yes ma'am," he yelled back hugging the precious box and struggling with the bat. "Thanks Edward, I hope you get well. I hope you play baseball again someday."

"Thanks Benny, I'll try," Edward smiled, he was at ease now.

"Oh and Merry Christmas!" Benny yelled as he turned to run home.

"You too!" Edward replied.

I walked to the front of the vehicle as Benny ran back up the street. Edward got seated, his face more serene, as he closed the door. I cranked, the car started and I took my place behind the wheel.

"Are you alright?" I asked him.

"Better than ever," he said smiling and looked out the windshield at the city. He calmly took in the sights on the way out of Chicago, quite the opposite of this morning. I wondered what he was doing.

"Last look, at least for a while," he said in reply, his head barely twitching.

"Ah, yes. We will be leaving soon," I agreed. It seemed his emotional deliberations had come to a favorable conclusion.

"Yes," he whispered wistfully to my thought, almost inaudibly even to me. "Yes, they did."


	34. The Toss of a Coin

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

THE TOSS OF A COIN

Edward's POV

Carlisle suggested that I begin looking for my new life find something I wanted to do when I could move about in the world. I decided I wanted to go back to college, availability of evening and night courses being a major concern. He brought home books from the library to do my research. I began looking into the universities in the northern states with the rain and cloud cover information available. I found Northland College in Ashland, Wisconsin and University of Rochester in Rochester, New York. Both had lots of fog, rain and lake effects cloud cover and easy access to wilderness areas with plentiful wildlife.

Carlisle and I tossed a coin leaving it up to fate.

With the help of his aides, we moved to Ashland, so I could attend Northland in the fall, eight months from now. I decided to take basic courses so I could decide later what my focus would be.

Carlisle joined the hospital staff, night shift, of course.

Hunting had become more of an enjoyment than an unpleasant task. There was a bobcat overpopulation problem in northwest Wisconsin. Carlisle and I were interested in helping relieve that particular problem. I hadn't tasted any predators other than omnivorous bears and wolves, But he was sure I would probably like the hunt.

Bobcats were small quick cats, the chase when they knew they were being hunted was exhilarating and its blood was tasty but not very, um… filling. We both thought that predator blood did a better job of reducing the burn of the thirst. Quality does make up for quantity, almost. I was very happy there were plenty of wolves around to fill the void.

I got better at blocking individual minds but not the continuous buzz in my mind, a steady and constant irritant. The only thing that I still couldn't block at all was someone calling my name; even now I turned my head toward the 'voice'. Though I had refined it to a casual move instead of a twitch, I still had to listen to the context before dismissing the voice.

Carlisle sympathetically understood my problem. We found a large and eerie looking farmhouse several miles from town where I could be at peace and study in relative silence from the barrage of mental activity of the city and not an Edward neighbor within hearing distance.

Coping with human thoughts and emotions was the most difficult; it was more than just dealing with the mental noise. Cheating, earnestness, friendship, joy, fickleness, lust, fidelity, love, hate, fantasy, illness, grief, good, and evil were all there in my head when I got within a half a mile of people.

The hardest part was letting the evil prey on the unsuspecting if I was close by but Carlisle told me it had always been that way I just hadn't been able to hear it. I heard it all and hated that I could do nothing, but slowly learned to block it.

Carlisle's mind was the hardest to block, since his was the first 'voice' I heard, but mostly since I depended on him so much. My mind resisted attempts to block his thoughts. I could do it but it took constant mental effort, it was easier to get out of his range than to try to block his thoughts. That brought on another set of complications with trying to maintain complete control over the thirst. I found that if I only lost the mental link with Carlisle for a few hours a day I was safe. He would come home for 'dinner' in the middle of the night. We increased the time we were apart every week until I was able to tolerate Carlisle's absence for a full hospital shift.

Carlisle's work and its accompanying sights were something he felt I could not be exposed to yet. Because I couldn't effectively block his thoughts I had to be at a minimum two miles from the hospital. Although he tried very hard not to think of his patients, his work always came home with him. His mind occasionally and fleetingly revealed their problems. Because of the lapses, I rapidly learned acceptance for such things because they were filtered through his mind and his tolerances. If he wasn't with me, I constantly 'listened' for sounds of distress and bodily injury around me because I needed to stop breathing and move away quickly. My tolerances were not 'built in' yet but I was getting closer.

By June my eyes had turned dark amber and he introduced me to the human world. I had learned to overlook the signs of the thirst so they wouldn't trigger my hunting response. Carlisle warned me that not breathing now that I was this far along would undo my progress and make it more difficult when I did take a breath. So I needed to keep my perspective, the constant background burn was natural and normal so I needed to get use to it. My reactions were diminishing and I had increased control over the thirst. I was far from Carlisle's non-reaction but vastly improved from six months earlier.

For my 'eighteenth' birthday Carlisle gave me a new car. It was a beauty, a 1919 Essex Roadster, the first one in Wisconsin. I drove it every night for two weeks and learned all the roads in the area. I really liked driving the car, though I wished it was faster.

His Roadster, the twin of mine, arrived a month later and we fulfilled his vision of racing each other in the dead of night.

I had been roaming around the city at night for over a month. We even went to a play. I found that I was 'safe' if I went hunting once a week. Now I could walk down the street and pass within a few feet of people. While breathing!

The first cloudy day after my eyes were a decent color Carlisle and I went for a walk, first in the city park, then a downtown street. I got to travel around outside quite a bit, and in July we roamed through a large department store.

I had heard lewd thoughts many times before but never with Carlisle and I as their target. In the brightly lit department store our attractive physical appearance was quickly noticed along with our appealing scent. I was grateful that Carlisle was ignorant of the lurid thoughts coming from the women we passed. Although he recognized their increased heartbeat and breathing patterns when they caught sight of us, he didn't know what they were thinking but he recognized the effect we had on them. Fortunately their reluctance to approach us saved me further embarrassment and stress.

Carlisle's patients who passed us on the street surprised me the most. Some acknowledged him and said hello while others averted their eyes and nervously passed us by like they hadn't seen him. None stopped to chat though some were curious about me. Carlisle noticed but said nothing; he was used to the behavior.

Though the freedom to be out during the day in public was liberating, the constant mental drain made me avoid the city. I spent most of my days and nights at home. My favorite pastime was playing the piano. I listened to the radio learning new songs and tried it out immediately on my piano.

September finally arrived. My first day at college was equally exciting and terrifying. My physical appearance and scent were unfortunately working as designed and the students and faculty responded naturally. I was becoming accustomed to the extra mental attention, but I didn't like it at all. They would not approach me though; my constant scowl from the mental effort made me a little too intimidating.

I would have blocked all their thoughts but they knew my name and once thought or said I had to listen long enough to recognize it was not important. Most times there was enough detail to the mental pictures to make me blush if it were possible. I could only laugh or shudder at their rude fantasies, block their thoughts and try to listen to the lectures. I found my best defense was to get to class early, keep my head down, and sit in the back of the classroom where I drew slightly less attention.

By my third semester I was enjoying myself, I was learning so many new things. I could sit anywhere in a lecture hall with dozens of other students. Although I maintained a distance of about five feet from anyone, most people kept that far from me unconsciously. I still sat at the back or on the side so I wouldn't have an obvious circle of empty seats around me.

Now the only people who had crude thoughts or fantasies about me were the newest students or faculty. All the others were now wary of me, their instinctive reaction to my nature had finally taken over. I was comfortable with my status, tolerated when interaction was required and ignored when it wasn't.

One night in my fourth semester while reading in my room Carlisle called out my name from somewhere on the edge of the city. I focused on him.

"_Edward,_" he called again. I saw through Carlisle's eyes; he was running away from the hospital. He was swiftly running home with a woman in his arms. He was frantic but excited and worried about the consequences of his actions. _Stay in your room or run. Hold your breath,_ he warned me as he swiftly approached our home. _Block my thoughts or get far enough away from me so you can't hear, _he pleaded. He was already through the back door, headed down the stairs to the basement.


	35. The 'Never Again' that Happened

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

35 THE 'NEVER AGAIN' THAT HAPPENED

"Who is she?" I asked upset and yes, curious. He knew I would just pick the information out of his mind in fractions of a second. Then I immediately held my breath and blocked his mind from mine as he laid her on a large spare dining table in the basement.

I reviewed the memory I had just taken from his mind, sifting through all his worries. I saw her bloody and destroyed body, broken spine , hips crushed, organs burst but unbelievably her heart was still beating. Perversely someone brought her to the morgue and left her there to die. Carlisle had been drawn to a heartbeat where one shouldn't have been. But most extraordinarily to a scent he recognized – he knew her! He'd met her before when she was an adolescent. I could see him putting a splint on her broken leg.

My first thought was to protect us. Obviously Carlisle was preoccupied but he had checked to make sure no one has seen him. He had 'walked' to work, so there was no car to retrieve.

I ran down the stairs to the telephone and called the hospital to tell them that Carlisle was home ill and wouldn't be coming in to work. I was brief and terse because I could only use the air in my lungs. He hadn't reported in before he heard her in the morgue so they didn't know he had even arrived at the hospital. Her body would be missing but they couldn't connect it to him, as he was home sick. I ran back up the stairs to my room to try to continue my studying.

I thought I could stay and that I wouldn't be affected if I closed off my mind to their thoughts. A short time later I heard moaning, and then a muffled scream. I had to work really hard to block the first waves of the pain coming from the woman. I could hear him trying to soothe her but he was sobbing at her ordeal. I could block their thoughts but I couldn't turn off my ears. Outside the house no would hear but I could.

"Sorry Carlisle, I can't stay. I'll be back in a day or two," I said as I opened my window and jumped out. I knew he would hear me – if he was listening. I couldn't stay in the house so I ran wishing I had left when he first told me to run, wishing that I didn't have even this little part of their pain in my memory.

I knew the agony that Carlisle was in. He had to keep her alive long enough for the venom to do its work and watch her writhe in agony. He would apologize to her for the blazing torture and it brought back the memory of my days of pain, it was still too vivid.

Through his memory, I knew what he was doing and why. I couldn't be as strong as he was and I didn't need to be.

I fled from the house. I already knew where my safe spot was. That place in the forest that was far enough away from any people, including home and Carlisle, so I couldn't hear the voices and ran there as fast as I possibly could. I would miss my classes but the likelihood of going back to college now was pretty slim.

I knew he was taking a great risk on her. She probably wouldn't die but she could reject him and I wasn't sure what that would do to him. Then there was the alternative, if she didn't reject him - what would it mean for us?

That he loved her was a given. He had told me I was his first and last so he wouldn't put himself through that torment again for someone he didn't already cherish. He must believe she had the potential of existing the way we do or he was willing to take the risk that she could. I thought of his memory of the young girl with the broken leg. I wondered what it was about her that fascinated him even back then, because he remembered her vividly and fondly.

I ran and roamed the forests and hills. I found a small open meadow, a nice place to worry about Carlisle and listen to the world. When the sun came out I watched as the rainbows that flashed from my skin made leaves in the shade sparkle with their light. I laughed as I watched predatory insects and hungry birds chase the rainbows mistakenly thinking they were something good to eat.

Since I wasn't hunting I had traveled in a different direction than I usually took so I climbed the tallest tree I could find on the highest hill around and looked out over the whole area. I identified several herds of deer, elk and moose. I leisurely counted 4 bears, 2 bobcats and 12 wolves. In the far distance I could see Ashland. I could see the massive ore dock* jutting into the expanse of the lake and the movement of smoke from an ore train.

I constantly wondered how Carlisle was coping. I had no doubt that he would succeed in his effort but I knew he would also suffer.

Carlisle's POV

Esme's heart was still beating as I laid her on the table. She had made it this far, the run home had not put enough strain on her heart to stop it. I had no time for any other considerations. I needed to get as much venom in her as fast as I possibly could.

My memory vivid from my ordeal during Edward's transformation, I prepared myself for the anguish that I knew was coming or so I thought.

I bit her neck and the blood only oozed out. There was no spray against my teeth as even her arterial blood flowed sluggishly. Still I moaned with distress against the excitement tasting her blood brought out in me, how it drew my vilest nature to the surface. I needed to be a machine, and I unlocked my jaw and hurried to my next target.

I switched to the other side of her neck and bit again venom pouring from my mouth into the wound but the blood flow was so weak. I cried out around my locked jaw against my burning thirsts insistence that I drink her fragrant wet warm blood.

She moaned once, twice then was silent; she was so close to death.

I unlocked my jaw and bit her wrist, she needed more venom because she was so weak, she needed its healing power and strengthening quickly so I bit her other wrist, sobbing with the pain it caused us both. I couldn't even think about what I was doing I just needed to get as much venom in her as I could. My thirst's frenzy was lessened by my intense anxiety and my need to be quick.

I bit both her calves above her ankles; the blood flow was almost non-existent. _She needs venom fast_, I told myself again.

_You're a fool_, I mentally screamed at myself. _I should have started here_. I ripped off her dress and bit through the fabric of her undergarment to reach her femoral veins and arteries, those large veins will get the venom to her heart fastest. The blood flow through the arteries should have been significant but it wasn't and with the extra venom flow no blood entered my mouth.

"Esme, I am sorry that this will be so painful," I muttered, praying that it would indeed be painful, that she would survive to feel the awful pain. Instead of her cries of distress, I was the one crying and struggling in agony now; it wasn't working.

"Sorry Carlisle, I can't stay. I'll be back in a day or two," Edward called from his room.

I heard him open the window and he was gone. I had forgotten he was even here, I was glad he left. I knew he had my mind blocked but he could still hear everything going on down here. He didn't need to hear this – this horrendously unbearable failure.

Her response was devastatingly unlike Edwards. She lay there scarcely reacting to the venom and to the pain.

_God, she can still do good in this world if you let her stay,_ I prayed.

Her heart was barely pumping now. I sobbed as I lightly caressed her face, listening to her severely damaged body as it failed to respond.

"No, No. Esme, No. Please! I want you to survive," I cried and pleaded as I let her go. I hadn't prepared for this type of anguish. Her heartbeat was so faint now. I knew it would stop any moment.

I something snapped inside me. I turned and kicked the storage crate nearest to me. I growled and kicked at it again. I smashed it and its glass contents to rubble. Wood splinters and glass shards scattered and fell like rain across the room.

I was despondent, powerless and beside myself with rage. I paced to the far end of the room roaring in my misery, the walls trembling with the sound of my impotent fury. Arguing with God against taking her now.

My brain flashed with multiple memories and I remembered her as I roared with anguish. She was the first in a century to hug me before Edward had.

It had been decades since I had found someone to talk to as I could talk to her. Traveling the back country of rural North America there was little chance of anyone warming up to me. I was a stranger, I was a doctor, and they were wary of me because their instincts told them to be. She was like sunshine, so warm, loving and tender. Remarkably she was infatuated with me and for three years she followed me everywhere when I was out and about. We had lengthy genuine conversations, so it was easy to like her.

I knew she followed me, consequently I was careful when I left to go hunting. I wouldn't start running until I knew I was out of her sight. She broke her leg falling from a tree she had hurriedly climbed to watch me as I walked into the deep forest. I heard her scream and came back for her. I splinted her leg and carried her home. She hugged me and sighed contentedly all the way to her home, though I knew she was in terrible pain. It was an astonishing feeling. I relived the intensity of it and I was sobbing again. Few others ever held sway in my affection as she had.

I remembered that a few weeks later she cried when I announced I was leaving. Her leg was still in a splint or she may have tried to follow me. When I left, she was sixteen, sweet, and full of life. I could recall only a few times being reluctant to leave a place, yet leaving her had been one of my most difficult departures.

Now here she was more mature and dying. I had a chance to save her, to share with her my affection and I had failed. She would die; there just hadn't been enough time. The transformation that could have been another amazing blessing was failing.

*An: Look up the Ashland ore dock - it is very cool.


	36. Esme

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

36 ESME

A.N.: This isn't pretty folks, but here it is. Tell me what you think.

Carlisle's POV

I hadn't heard anything above the frustrated roar in my head. I didn't want to hear her last heartbeat and know I was defeated that I didn't deserve another blessing. Now I stood silent at the end of the room rapidly breathing in her scent, tasting it on my tongue, memorizing it, knowing that it would be gone any moment, replaced by the stench of death. Over the sound of my own unnecessary breathing I heard the faint pulse of a soft heartbeat and the rustle of fabric on wood and looked back at Esme's body and was stunned. She was moving.

In an instant I was next to her. Incredibly her heart was smoothly pumping, enough venom had reached it in time, and it had strengthened. Her wounds, sealed with venom, were healing, and she was also responding to the pain. Her eyes opened and she let out a long low moan.

"Thank you, God!" I cried, elated. Hysterical with relief, laughter threatened to burst from my throat as I stood next to her. I took her hands into mine as she moaned with the pain. I tried to comfort her so I talked to her. I couldn't hold her; she was still so weak, her body still so broken.

From the depths of despair my hope was restored, she would survive, my miracle had happened. The love I felt for this woman filled me with wonder with its intensity and extent, and I knew that God had significantly changed my life once again.

It was torture knowing that I had to wait for Edward to come back home to find out if she still felt anything for me.

The rest of the night and day we sat like this, she moaned, cried and frequently screamed. She didn't struggle much, her spine was still broken. I tried my best to comfort her by telling her all the things that I had waited to tell Edward.

As she became stronger she grasped hold of my arms. She tugged at me and I fell against the table and it collapsed under our weight. I avoided falling on her and sat next to her on the broken tabletop. She clung to me pulling herself into my lap.

"Esme, you will hurt me if you grasp too hard," I said to her although she wasn't strong enough to hurt me, yet.

She looked up at me through her pain. "Dr. Cullen? You found me?"

"Yes, Esme, it's me, Carlisle," I said amazed that she remembered and recognized me through the pain. "You were dying and I changed you. You are becoming like me but you will be so strong you can hurt me. Don't grasp too hard," I said again.

She loosened her hold slightly on my arms but the pain gripped her and she screamed out in agony grasping at me again. This is going to hurt us both, I told myself, she isn't restrained and I'm all she has to hold on to.

"You came back for me," she cried out through her pain.

"Yes, Esme, I will never leave you again," I said as hope that she still cared for me strengthened me.

I talked to her but other than screaming she did not respond again. She began to writhe with increased agony, her legs began to move. Her spine had healed and the additional pain took her in its merciless grip.

Edward's POV

I 'played' in the forest for almost two days; I convinced myself that I could help Carlisle now. I was pretty sure that his friend wouldn't smell so human now. She would be reaching the end of the transformation where everything was not only extremely painful but also very confusing. He might need me to read her mind to see what we needed to tell her to help her cope with her new… life? existence?

I headed back to the city at twilight listening hard for Carlisle. I headed to where I knew I could hear Carlisle at home.

_Edward?_ I heard Carlisle's 'voice'. I was almost a mile away from where I normally would have heard him. He was calling me loudly and I was pushing the limits and obviously he was too.

_Edward? Where are you?_ His thoughts hit me, frantic for some reason. He needed me, but he just wasn't thinking why he needed me.

_Edward, please! _he begged the silence. His eyes were closed at the moment and I couldn't see what was in front of him. I blocked his mind again.

For a fraction of a second I wondered how long he had been calling me before I cranked up my pace. I was thankful that it was full dark as I raced home.

I slowed down close to the house; he could hear my voice from here. I didn't know how close I should get.

"Carlisle, I'm here. What can I do?" I asked aloud listening for both his voices.

"Get down here!" he growled aloud. _I need to talk to her. I need to know what is going on in her mind. She needs to know things and I don't know how to tell her. The last part is coming soon. Hurry, Edward_. His voice was anxious.

I raced into the house without smashing through the door in my rush. I knew he would have heard me come in, if he was listening to anything but her heart thundering in her chest. I could hear that from outside, I could also hear her wailing cries.

"I'm right here," I said from the kitchen at the top of the basement stairs. I was still blocking her mind. I saw through his eyes though and was stunned. "Carlisle?"

"I couldn't leave her. Help me, Edward." His mind filled with their shared agony. His eyes locked on her face but I could see through his peripheral vision.

The room was a disaster, things smashed and broken. The table was legless and lying on the floor. He was sitting cross-legged on the table's remains, the woman curled around his body, her head in his lap. She was wearing only underclothes; her dress was on the floor in shreds partially under the rubble. I could see she had bites on each wrist because her hands wrapped across the top of her head. I knew that she had a bite on her neck but I couldn't see it. I wondered if he had bitten both her ankles.

What had happened down there?

"I'll see if I can find something for her to wear. I'll be down in a moment."

_It was so easy with you. How could I know this would be so difficult? _he lamented.

_Easy_…? I thought in disbelief, blocking his thoughts again. My transformation was easy? Huh! _Maybe for him_, I huffed, though I knew it wasn't true.

I suffered with him and knew the torment he was in when I went through it. This was so much worse. I wondered what I had missed during the last 48 hours. His focus was still on her so he hadn't let me hear the reason for the destruction.

I had a couple of long night shirts in the chest of drawers in my room that I never used that would do for now. I flew up the stairs to my room and down. I headed down the basement stairs more slowly and smelled blood.

I froze. It was two day old dried dead blood but it was human blood. The beast reacted to the smell and my stomach twisted… not in the usual way. It was sour, disgusting and made me queasy. I went back up the stairs and pulled a bottle of bleach and a pail out from under the kitchen sink. Again, I was thankful for Carlisle's whim of have all things human around.

I took a breath of untainted air and held it. I walked down the stairs.

"Carlisle?" I called tentatively from the bottom of the stairs. I could hear her heart revving up; I knew it would only be a short time until she was fully one of us. Frighteningly it also meant she would be stronger than either of us.

"Come in," he whispered.

I walked around the intervening wall into the room. I recognized some of the broken glass pieces strewn across the floor and knew they were centuries old. This damage had cost him dearly.

He was cradling her and crooning. She had moved her hands from her head, and they were clutching his at her chest. Her moaning wail hadn't ceased but the volume had decreased. Her body curled around him so tightly her knees tucked up against his back. I could see the twin bite marks just above her crossed ankles. She had her head turned so that her eyes stared into his.

I saw no blood on her wounds. I moved in closer so I could assist him if he needed me. She screamed and startled me as I sat the pail on the floor. I saw where the smell of acrid blood was coming from, where the blood from her wounds had gone.

"I have to get rid of this," I said still holding my breath, it only took a few seconds to pull her blood smeared dress from under the rubble and place it inside the pail of bleach. I took a tiny breath and was relieved that the bleach masked the scent.

I stood watching Carlisle. He shook his head once, then I heard my name and I unblocked his thoughts and listened to him.

_Edward, help me! Tell me what she is thinking. It's driving me crazy,_ Carlisle begged, his eyes never leaving hers.

His thoughts were swirling, totally revolving around the condition of the woman and how she was feeling. His overwhelming love and crushing concern were truly making him crazy. His desperate circular thoughts were enough to make me hastily and thoughtlessly agree to listen.

"I'm going to listen to her now Carlisle. If it is too much for me, I'll have to stop." I rushed to tell him to ease his mind.

"I know," he said dully.

I took an unnecessary breath, then I foolishly and a bit arrogantly opened my mind to her thoughts.

I cried out as excruciating pain instantaneously shattered my mind and stunned me completely. The psychic shock hurled me back against the brick wall knocking the air from my lungs and I collapsed on the floor. I was on fire. I tried to scream with airless lungs as the horrific hell of my own transformation, engulfed me in the blazing inferno all over again.

I struggled against the flames ripping through my mind and thrashed around on the floor. Drawing in air, I screamed in response to the agonizing pain but the intensity rendered me useless. I couldn't block her mind or even futilely fight the pain; I could do nothing but writhe in the inferno. Then the intense pain closed down my throat and even strangled my screams.

"Edward! … Son!" Carlisle cried out in terror, hearing my scream. Breaking eye contact with Esme he looked over at me as I hit the wall. He tried to pull his hand away to reach me but her grip was too strong. He tried to move toward me but her body wrapped tightly around him prevented it.

Her body trapped him, and I was trapped by her burning agony.

"Son! Oh God, no! Edward?" he cried again, watching in horror as I writhed on the floor.

He desperately struggled to extricate himself from her newborn grip. I heard the first squeal of tearing vampire flesh as he attempted to free himself from her. The visceral sound ripped through my pain bringing me agony of another sort.


	37. The Little Death Before

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

37 THE LITTLE DEATH BEFORE

_Son?_ A soft trembling female voice queried from somewhere inside the burning pain.

"No…, Wai…t." I pushed the strangled words from my pain choked throat. Carlisle stared at me and stopped his effort to escape. I struggled through the agonizing blaze to track the soft voice in her mind and found a place of relative sanity.

_Son?_ her voice asked again.

"Aaaah," I breathed a sigh of relief; there was less of the still horrible pain here. I was able to focus a little now and stopped writhing on the floor. I looked up at Carlisle; his anguish making his young face look old. I could see my reflection in his eyes, and I managed to replace my tortured expression with a slightly less tortured one. Trembling, I straightened my legs.

Carlisle sighed with relief.

"I'm so sorry, son. Are you alright now?" he asked anxiously, looking into my face.

I nodded, lying. I still burned with her pain as I remained linked with her mind.

He relaxed a little and looked back at her. He expected me to block her thoughts now that I could but I was through the worst. I was curious why she was concerned about his exclamation calling me son. Through all that pain she wondered about me. Struggling with the pain, impatiently stubborn, I suffered along with her to relieve my curiosity.

"What… is your name?" I asked as I slowly sat up, still listening for the soft voice marginally isolated from the extremely intense pain.

_Esme, _her soft voice answered from the quieter place. I could see Carlisle's face there. His eyes were her focus; the rest of his face was blurry.

_Esme, _he thought lovingly at the same time.

_Son?_ her trembling voice asked again. Her voice was touched with longing. A glimpse of a tiny infant then it was gone replaced by Carlisle's agonized face and a flash of me when I hit the wall.

"Ye…sss, I'm his son… _grhh_," I answered with a growl, struggling against the pain. Carlisle's head snapped up to look at me again, this time questioningly.

_Mother? _her agonized voice asked with trepidation. In her mind I saw Carlisle's face as he quickly looked away from her over at me then my face came into view. I was looking at Carlisle then I saw myself looking at her. His gaze returned to her also.

"I have none, yet," I said quietly looking into her hopeful but patently disconcerting blood red eyes. I was beginning to isolate myself from her pain.

_Need mother._ It was a statement not a question. My answer had eased her fear. I noticed that her 'voice' was becoming stronger and the pain was beginning to leave her toes and fingertips because she was no longer aware of them.

"Yes, I do… _Ow ooh_," I answered, struggling with a sudden surge of pain coming from her.

Her eyes returned to Carlisle's face, her longing for him evident even in her agony. I felt the same overwhelming love emanating from her as I had felt from him. I tried to block the intense emotion without blocking her mind totally, a futile exercise at best but I was able to block some more of the pain.

"What is she saying?" he asked struggling with only half the conversation.

I spoke so fast it took only a second to get out. "She wanted to know if I was your son and I told her I was. Then she asked if I had a mother and I said I didn't, yet. She told me I needed one and I agreed. If you're wondering, she is in love with you, been in love with you ever since she first met you years ago, and given that I'm your son she wants to be my mother. There is also something about an infant that I don't understand. The pain is leaving her limbs; it won't be long until it's over."

I knew that Esme hadn't heard anything I said.

Carlisle looked at me like I had just granted him his fondest wish. His resulting smile radiated joy. He looked down at her with concerned but loving eyes.

"Esme, I told you what I did to you. I told you what you are becoming. The process is coming to an end and it will be the most painful part. I will hold you. I will be here for you. I will never leave you," Carlisle said carefully and slowly so she could catch it through her pain.

He was changed, something amazing had happened to him because of her while I was gone. I wondered fleetingly how the smashed crate of ancient glass figured into the whole thing.

"Esme, I will be here for you, too," I added. She heard us but didn't respond. The pain was overwhelming her again as it became more concentrated and left her limbs pain free. I blocked her mind before it dragged me back into the inferno.

The direct contact with Esme's fiery pain was going to leave unforgettable scars in my memory. I knew that if I stayed connected with her mind that the blazing finish would pull me into its heights of agony. I'd already been there and it was an additional nightmare I didn't want living with me in my vast and extremely vivid memory. There was nothing she could tell me now anyway.

"She heard us but just barely. I had to block her. I'm sorry Carlisle but she's on her own until it's over," I told him. The pain was gone from my body, as if it had never been, except that it was now and forever in my memory.

He only nodded as he continued to cradle her pain racked body.

I moved to sit on the floor across from him. We waited, listening to her heart hammering in her chest, waiting on the little death before the new way of life.

Suddenly she bucked and arched away from Carlisle. Her body unwrapped itself from him and twisted backward as her heart raced savagely toward its last beat. Carlisle grabbed her waist and I reached out and held her shoulders to keep her from throwing herself across the room.

It seemed as if all of the heat extracted from her body escaped through a twisting vortex above her chest. I stared at the phenomenon as I held her shoulders and felt the heat rising into the air, as her flesh cooled. Now I knew what Carlisle had seen as I lay screaming when the inferno torched the last bits of my human flesh away.

She shrieked and the glass shards on the ground around us vibrated discordantly. We both felt her agony but we were relieved knowing it would be her last pain. Then her heart stopped, the vortex dissipated and all was quiet.

The three of us were motionless and silent as statues for a moment. The only sound was the creaking of wood beams. My eyes were on him as I released my grip on her shoulders and he pulled her back into his lap.

Esme drew a breath breaking the tension and smiled. He pulled her upright into a hug.

"Carlisle," she whispered and hugged him back.

"Ow! You're very strong Esme," he pushed against her embrace.

"Sorry, I think I remember something about that in one of your more talkative moments," she replied loosening her hold on him. She kept her arms lightly around his waist.

Her enhanced brain must have been fully functional during the later part of the process, remembering the things he said even if she couldn't process it at the time.

"What do you want to know now?" he asked his arms still wrapped around her.

"This burning throat, it's forever, right? It _is_ rather uncomfortable but nothing like the other pain," she said with a grimace.

"Yes, but we can ease it for a while. We don't want to hurt people so we hunt animals."

She nodded, but was distracted again staring into his face. "I'm fast, strong and almost indestructible? Did I really hurt you?"

He nodded answering her questions.

"Sorry," she said as she snuggled against him.

He had learned from his experience with me but he was still unsure.

_Can you listen to her now?_

I nodded my head. I was already listening to her gentle inner voice.

"How did you get hurt?" he asked after his quick glance at my acknowledgement.

"I …," she started but couldn't finish, she hid her face in the crook of Carlisle's arm.

I saw the tiny infant again, his tiny dead body as they took him away. They left her alone. No one was there to comfort her. She cried in the empty house staring at the empty cradle. Her anguish was quite horrible. She left the house and walked to the edge of a cliff and threw herself over. She remembered the crushing pain then nothing until she heard Carlisle's voice, the miraculous voice of her long lost love. I shook my head at her heartbreaking memory.

"You jumped because you were so distraught over losing your baby," I said for Carlisle's benefit.

"Oh, Esme," he sighed and pulled her tighter to himself. She smiled up at him still distracted, not realizing that I pulled her explanation straight from her mind.

Esme was so gentle and tender. Loving and warm-hearted, she radiated love. I was astounded at how much love she had in her. How could they just reject her like that? They didn't even try to save her just left her in the morgue. It made me angry. I wanted someone to suffer for it.


	38. Immediate Relocation

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

38 IMMEDIATE RELOCATION

"How could they just leave you alone after such a tragic loss?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't feel her emotions but they were plain enough. The sudden flood of memories of her husband were disgustingly graphic. She looked over at me sadly.

"They said my baby's death was punishment because I left my husband."

"But… he was cruel and brutal. He beat you and… You shouldn't have to stay with a man like that, married or not."

I was appalled at her memories of what he had repeatedly done to her in addition to the beatings. He was the one that should have gone over the cliff, I thought angrily.

Carlisle gasped, looking over at me. My shocked and angry expression let him know I had 'seen' more in her memory and it had affected me more than what I had just expressed.

"How?" she stared wide-eyed at me. Her thoughts suddenly pulled back from her miserable past to now, to Carlisle and the things he had told her while she was in pain. "Ah, I remember," she said smiling up at Carlisle. "So this is your son's gift."

"Yes, sorry… I can't help it. It just happens," I said smiling apologetically, reining in my anger. "I can block your thoughts though, so don't worry about me hearing everything you think."

She smiled at me, Carlisle smiled, too. I smiled back at them. This could work out, we could be a family, I thought wistfully.

"Hello, my name is Edward Cullen," I introduced myself to her.

"Hello Edward. I'm Esme. I hear you need a mother," she said heartfelt and totally serious.

I laughed.

_Yes, you do!_ Carlisle thought, liking what she had just said. They were still wrapped around each other like they were never going to move or if they did they were going to move as one body.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" I asked him, dryly amused.

_I'm pretty sure it does. You can't have one without the other, _he replied as dryly.

"What?" she asked not hearing the other side of the conversation.

"Uh, here is something for you to change into. The bath is upstairs. We will find you some better clothes in the morning. Let's go hunting," Carlisle said quickly, holding up the nightshirt.

"Yes, let's go hunting," I echoed, stunned at Carlisle's train of thought. Seriously in love, he was planning to ask Esme to marry him. To him it made perfect sense. Even stranger was that Esme was expecting him to ask.

"Yes, let's," she said, grabbing the nightshirt, ripping it in half. "Oh?" Suddenly she stood, looking down at Carlisle her eyes wide with surprise. "Wow that was…fast," she giggled as he stared up at her. He was the one distracted now.

I prodded Carlisle with my barefoot and pointed toward the stairs. "That way." He jumped up to lead the way for Esme.

She reached out and held his hand.

"A little distracted by something?" Esme asked as she walked barefoot with no hesitation across the glass strewn floor.

"Just a bit," Carlisle said smiling at her. His focus on her blocked all other thoughts but taking her hunting so I still had no idea what had triggered the destruction. I wanted to know so badly my curiosity was growling like a beast but I left the question unasked, I'd find out if he wanted to tell me or if it slipped out.

She bathed quickly and coiled her hair on top of her head using what hairpins had been in her hair. Instead of the nightshirt she opted for one of Carlisle's shirts and a pair of his trousers, which she quickly shortened with a pair of scissors. She was a very practical woman; hunting in a nightshirt or a dress would have been difficult.

We couldn't stay in Ashland, it was too dangerous. Both Carlisle and I could help her try to cope with her thirst. Since she couldn't tap into Carlisle's mind, as I could, she needed to be far from the temptation of human blood.

He decided we would head for his house in the White Mountains of New Hampshire where she could hunt and not be tempted by humans at all. I knew about the house but had never been there.

We left almost everything behind. I knew Carlisle would call his aide and he or she would take care of everything in Ashland for us. I stayed in the wilderness with Esme as Carlisle went back into town. Carlisle brought his medical bag and some instruments he thought he might need. Not for us but for those we might accidentally meet on the way but I knew he was thinking ahead for his future job. He made a pack for it to carry on his back. Carlisle contacted the hospital and told them we were leaving for a family emergency, so they wouldn't think we disappeared.

I went to the house while Carlisle and Esme hunted. I stuffed my mother's wedding ring box into my pocket. It was my mother's ring but my father had given it to her so it linked the three of us together. It was a token, a reminder that they would always be a part of me, even if I had wonderful new if somewhat strange parents.

I packed all the shirts and pants I could fit into a large knapsack. Esme was just as messy feeding as I had been. If she ran through clothes as fast as I had she'd need all we could carry because the house in the mountains was very isolated.

We were running from Wisconsin across the upper peninsula of Michigan, swimming over to Canada then down into New York and over to New Hampshire. It would take us a few days, hunting along the way.

I was running in a zigzag pattern ahead of Carlisle and Esme checking for any sign of human scent when I caught the scent of something I'd never smelled before. It was similar to bobcat, yet different. I followed the scent and caught a glimpse of the creature. It was a large wild cat about twice the size of a bobcat. I tracked it for a while, hunted it as it hunted. I tracked other wild cat scents as I followed and knew it wasn't rare in these forests. I gave myself permission to let the scent take me and fell into a hunting crouch running toward my predatory prey. It was an entertaining hunt and my reward eased my burning thirst nicely.

The next day while I was ranging out ahead of Carlisle and Esme I heard an anguished scream coming from behind me. It was Esme's voice echoing across the valley.

"Esme, I coming," I yelled. I ran toward her scream. I was out of mind reading range for her so I had no idea what was happening.

"No! Edward, Stop!" Carlisle yelled back across the valley. Suddenly I 'heard' Carlisle's frantic thoughts, realizing my range had increased again, at least as far as Carlisle was concerned. _Stay where you are, Edward. Don't come close enough to hear her mind. _Then he repeated the words again.

"I heard you," I replied and stopped where I was. I could see through Carlisle's eyes; Esme, blood dripping from her mouth, her face a mask of terror kneeling on the ground a dead man at her knees.

I was horrified, somehow I had missed the man's scent and she had caught it while hunting. She had no chance of stopping once she had his scent and being a newborn she was so much faster than Carlisle he couldn't catch her in time.

I had no words for the pain I felt as I empathized with the pain her scream conveyed after she realized what she had done. I was glad that I couldn't hear her now, but I should be suffering along with her since it had been my job to keep her safe from such things.


	39. The Mountainside

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

39 THE MOUNTAINSIDE

I watched through his eyes as Carlisle fire the man's shotgun into the ground and toss it away.

"Edward it wasn't your fault,"Carlisle's voice came to me as if reading my mind. "She got off the route a mile back. I lost track of her myself she is too far south. Leave us alone for a while, I'll call out when we're ready to join up with you, it may take an hour or so."

_Esme. Esme, my love. It's not your fault there was noth…_

I blocked his thoughts, surprised to find I was within range which was further more than before. I ran from him so I wouldn't have to concentrate on blocking his mind. I wondered if the trauma had enhanced my ability, as a survival .

I sat on a granite outcrop wondering how I would have felt killing someone in my first days. I couldn't even imagine so I stopped trying and watched the world continue on its journey but my thoughts returned again and again to her agonized scream.

I thought of Esme's natural acceptance of what she had become and remembered my own reaction. I had a sudden thought that maybe it was Carlisle's talent, his gift to us, simple acceptance instead of horror. I always thought it was strange that I wasn't terrified by what I'd become and she was just accepting. Carlisle's memory of his transformation was definitely unlike ours; his response was loathing and horror. Whose reaction was typical?

Since he was unable to destroy himself and was able to survive on animal instead of human blood he took it as a sign that he needed to do something good with his changed existence. Carlisle was an enlightened man and made a choice. He lived his life doing the good things that made him happy and contributed to his hope that there could be salvation for him someday. He based his whole existence on the possibility of salvation.

When I was a child pretending to be a monster I never imagined it as having a soul. I was a monster and monsters didn't have souls, the venom burned away my life and my soul. However, Carlisle remained a good man and that told me I was still _me_. I had made a choice too, acceptance of the change but not of its demands. I had a brilliant father to help show me the way around those demands. I wanted to make him proud of me, even if I didn't believe as he did. This _was_ my afterlife; this was all I was getting so with his help I was going to make it a good and long one.

I now had a mother who only wanted to love me as her son. I could help Carlisle keep her safe but neither of us could insure it. This tragedy was the one thing Carlisle dreaded but he said we would deal with it as a family. I trusted in that and in him.

I sang to myself and played the piano in my head using the boulder in front of me as my keyboard. I kept finding myself playing melancholy or dirge-like music while waiting for my family. I really felt like I had let Carlisle down.

About two hours later Carlisle called out and I answered back.

"Edward, you need to block her mind for a few days, I don't know how killing that man affected her but I don't want it affecting you,"he said as they came running toward me. I complied.

Carlisle was shirtless but Esme was freshly dressed although I had the knapsack with all the clothes. They were both somber.

"Edward, I'm so sorry I got off the safe path you made for me," Esme said rushing up to hug me.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," I replied hugging her back, holding and consoling her.

"What happened… after?" I asked Carlisle, tossing the knapsack to him.

_He had been out hunting. I found his car, took him back to town in it. I told them I was hunting and I heard him fire his gun, and then heard him scream. I found him in the woods near his car. They decided that it looked like a bear got him._

_He had raised his gun to fire at Esme not knowing it was a woman coming that fast at him. She reached him before he fired. I saw but was too far away to do anything._

_Esme stayed out of sight, right where I put her. She didn't move the entire time I was gone._

"The family was grateful to get him and the car back. No one liked him including his family but the people in town were nice and gave me clothes to replace my soiled ones. I gave them to Esme she needed them more. The sheriff gave me a ride back to the place where the man's car had been parked. He found the shotgun and took it with him. I thanked him for the ride, he wished me luck in my hunting and left."

He rummaged through the knapsack, pulled out a shirt and put it on. I now knew what had happened to his shirt with the vision of Carlisle putting the bloody body in the backseat of the car fresh in his mind.

_I called an aide while I was there and they had packed up everything in Ashland for storage and the lawyers know we've moved. _Carlisle multi-track mind also informed me.

Someone died. It didn't make it any easier knowing he wasn't a nice man. We had returned him to his family, so we did the best we could do with the tragic situation. We would start anew and try again.

I smiled, a small sad smile for Esme, as she released her hold on me. She hugged Carlisle and they held hands as they took off running.

I passed them and started my patrol again, trying my best to make a safe path for Esme.

We arrived at the house late the next day. It was a very nice cabin in the woods, near a scenic cliff and a small lake with lots of wildlife. The rugged terrain and isolation were what we needed. It was forty miles to the nearest road and fifty-five miles to the nearest town. Carlisle owned most of the area and hadn't let the loggers in so the forest was still ancient. We had a good twenty mile radius around the cabin to ourselves.

Esme asked me to help her clean up the inside the cabin while Carlisle was sent outside to 'tidy up' the yard. We could hear him pulling up the encroaching small trees and saplings by the roots and packing earth into the resulting holes.

With mixed emotions I swept the floor of the cabin, reminded of my last days of housework with my mother. Esme felt useful doing something that came naturally to her central nurturing personality. Still it was rather humorous being domestic after so long. Carlisle had hired someone to clean the house in Ashland while we were out, so I hadn't done this kind of chore in quite a while. We did feel better when we were able to sit without a cloud of dirt and dust rising in the air. Not that we _wanted_ to sit at all, but we needed to continue 'acting human' and because Esme needed to relearn by example.

Esme was a newborn vampire so her center of attention was on her thirst. Her feeding pattern was different from mine because she couldn't read Carlisle's mind. She had no controlling thoughts to help her out so she had to feed every few hours or the thirst would make her crazy. The thirst tried to pull up thoughts of feeding on a man again but her horror of that accident drove the thought away immediately and she ran to find something to quench the thirst. Occasionally I also burned with her overpowering thirst during those first few weeks so I tried very hard to block her thoughts. The practice helped me learn to control my ability better.

After a month she was able to think of something other than her thirst and if Carlisle was around she invariably focused on her passion for him. He might as well have been a newborn with his powerful passion for her. I couldn't be around them when they were like that. I ached with their intensity. Though I was able to block most of their thoughts, it was still painful to be around them. I was thankful that I could run so fast, it only took a couple seconds to get out of mind reading range.


	40. Settling Down and a Lesson

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

40 SETTLING DOWN AND A LESSON

Carlisle and Esme were in love. They were blissful, where every insignificant touch was significant. True to his cryptic words to me in the basement days earlier Carlisle asked Esme to marry him and she said yes. They set an arbitrary date of the first weekend after her eyes turned dark amber. He loved Esme and wanted a legitimate marriage. Just like the adoption papers Carlisle had definite ideas about what was right but that didn't stop them from behaving like they were already married.

I didn't spend much time around Carlisle and Esme after the first month we arrived at the cabin. I was glad I liked to run and swim. For sport I had lynx and wolves to chase even when I wasn't hunting. I started yelling across the mountain instead of getting close enough to hear his thoughts. I would call out his name and his reply or lack of one let me know if I could return home.

My tuition went down the drain and a semester lost. I wasn't completely miserable but no one said life was fair. Somehow when I saw how happy Carlisle was I thought it was all worth it.

After a couple months at the cabin Carlisle started calling on the local hospitals and clinics, he couldn't be away from his work for long. He got a position in a small hospital in a coastal town 70 miles southeast of the cabin and began working there at night. It was early fall and the nights were long; he was able to run to and from work in the dark. We could keep this up until late spring then we needed to find another place. Hopefully by then Esme would be able to control her thirst.

I was glad that Carlisle went back to work because Esme and I got to know each other. I had to stay with her the entire time Carlisle was gone in case some unfortunate human wandered this far into the wilderness.

She loved me as her son; she couldn't help herself it was just her loving nature. She acted like my mother, not my actual mother but like I'd been her son all along. After a few hours being alone with her not having to block her thoughts I found that I respected and loved her, like a mother.

We hunted together and talked about things we liked and found we had much in common, especially music. She loved listening as much as I loved playing. I didn't have a piano but I did sing for her and she sometimes sang along. It was comforting, it was homey and it was just what we needed to bond as family.

One of the advantages of Carlisle working in town was access to stores and current news. Esme was back in dresses except when hunting and I had new books to study. I was able to get a spring wound phonograph player and some of my favorite recordings. He brought home newspapers so we knew what was going on in the world. She started designing furniture after looking through the newspaper and she had me chopping down trees for wood. Soon we had a porch covered in 'log and twig' furniture. She was very creative with a small hatchet, a big knife and strong fingers. Though I could see much more sophisticated designs in her mind she settled for her country porch distraction for now.

Esme designed a small cabin for me. Carlisle, Esme and I built it in a few days before winter settled in. It was a modified dugout. We pulled up a few large glacial boulders and tons of stone to get a ten foot square about three feet below the surface. We made the walls with whole logs, split logs and the glacial stones. We used hardware from the local blacksmith for the door and window shutters. Split logs and sod made the roof. It was an interesting mix of textures.

I didn't mind being in the forest. I didn't mind sitting in the rain or snow but I couldn't read in it and I liked to read. I was more comfortable under a roof. It was my room just beyond the edge of my mind reading range from the main cabin. I could have my books and music out there and they could have their privacy. When we weren't hunting, I spent my hours wandering. I went to many of the small towns on 'listening' visits to hear radio programs and new music or spent the time in and around my cabin. The nights were with Esme hunting or in the main cabin while Carlisle was at work.

I told Carlisle about my way of coping with human scent. When I smelled my mother's scent and the beast desired her blood, I was horrified. The experience gave me the motivation and strength I needed to control my urges. I still couldn't ignore the urges like he did but they didn't ride roughshod over me anymore.

One morning in early spring he arrived home from the hospital with a tightly wrapped package. He had decided to try a similar idea on Esme.

"Esme you will need to get use to human scent and not be tempted by their closeness," he told her.

I immediately knew what he was going to do and I didn't like it. It was one thing to have an experience sneak up on you it was quite another to have it forced on you.

"Carlisle, do you really want to do this? Like this?" I asked very concerned with what he was forcing on her, I knew she would be extremely upset.

"I think we need to," he said very seriously. I shook my head denying his statement but he showed me how I devastated I looked coming down the stairs that afternoon in Chicago. He knew what she was about to experience.

"What is in the package?" Esme asked, cautiously curious as she watched our faces. She was accustomed to him bringing home surprises but not like this one.

"Esme this will distress you but I think it may be the key to help you resist," he said, trying to reassure her.

"Carlisle, what is in the package?" she asked again this time she was very suspicious.

"An infant's blanket and her clothes, no blood just scent," he said flatly.

Her face went blank and like a light going out her mind was gone. I heard nothing from her.

"Carlisle! She is in shock. I can't hear her anymore," I said alarmed. I had been afraid something like this would happen and it was very disturbing. I put my arm around her shoulder and looked into her blank eyes. She did not move or think. She was a statue. I had no idea what to do.

"Carlisle?" I begged and looked to him for help even though he was responsible for her state.

Carlisle was resolute though.

"Esme you are strong. This will let you know how strong you are," Carlisle told her compassionately and reached out to hold her frozen hand.

Slowly a flicker of thought came into her mind.

"What happened to the baby?" I echoed her thought for Carlisle to hear.

"She is fine. These are the clothes and blanket she used at the hospital overnight. She was dehydrated and now she is okay. She has gone home with her family."

We also stood silent as statues, waiting on Esme.

"I will do this… if you think it will work," she finally whispered, the statue coming to life, staring up at Carlisle.

"I don't know that it will work," he confessed. "It is only an educated guess that it may help you cope."

He sincerely hoped that it would work for her, making her transition to living around humans easier.

"It may be easier for you if you sit," I suggested foolishly. Sitting or standing this would be difficult for her.

"Yes, sit in the chair," Carlisle agreed, thinking a human would sit to get bad news. "I will open the package and we will see how it goes."

I guided a still stunned Esme over to the chair where she sat down. I stood back while Carlisle opened the package and then he removed the extra tight wrapping around the fabric.

The scent filling the room was strong and undeniably that of an infant. Esme was immediately in distress but she maintained her composure. I wanted to go to her but I knew that she needed to handle this on her own like I had years ago.

The thirst blazed down her throat and her mouth filled with venom and her muscles tensed. Unexpectedly my mouth responded with a scorching release of venom and I swiftly suppressed my reaction. I could hear her mentally sobbing, trying to force tears that wouldn't come. She was disgusted with herself that she even considered the scent would lead to a source of food, a _thing_ to drain of blood. Her beast was just as oblivious to her emotional condition as mine had been. She too hated the feeling.

Carlisle was right this is exactly what she needed to cope. He was so wise; he always knew what was effective. It was horribly emotional and dreadfully shocking but just like a doctor to know the right medicine even if it tasted terrible.

She sat sobbing quietly and he slowly brought the fabric toward her. She twitched and trembled with each shallow breath but she sat there as he brought it closer until it was right in front of her. She took a deep breath through her mouth and clenched her teeth together. He knelt in front of her and she reached out with a trembling hand and touched the fabric. Her sobs were loud now. I ached in the place where my heart should be, seeing her suffer so much, mourning the death of her baby again.

A quarter of an hour later she took another breath this time through her nose and I felt the thirst blaze through her again, her resolve hardened and she made her choice. Humans were babies and they all were precious. They weren't 'food'.

Carlisle looked up at me. He wanted to know if it was working, if it was having the desired effect on her. I nodded my head sadly.

Carlisle had done his job thoroughly. The 'medicine' worked; she was totally his. If she hurt a human now it was an accident. She had no urge to kill them.

She took the bundle of fabric out of his hands and held it in her hands. Her sobbing stopped and she looked over at Carlisle and smiled.

"I understand," she said, "I do." She nodded.

I nodded at him, too. She did understand what Carlisle was all about. Why he did what he did and why we did things his way. Love.


	41. Blizzard

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

41 BLIZZARD

Esme and I had spent the night working on our newest joint project, a fantastically intricate part wind chime, part percussion, musical contraption. We made it from wood, metal, rock flakes and other found artifacts. We had a great time trying to come up with something that merged our two interests into one design. My job was to tune the parts to make beautiful music instead of chaotic noise. Hers was to make it look like it all belonged together. Esme was genius with her design originality and our musical contrivance was coming along very well. We hoped that we would have a finished creation by the time Carlisle arrived home.

We noticed the atmospheric pressure change close to dawn and went outside to watch the storm arrive. Dark clouds had formed over the White Mountains to the north moving in from Canada. The menacing storm clouds stamped out the early morning gray as the dawn sky darkened.

The clouds rolled in rapidly and the wind howled from the north. The sky went totally black as the wind driven snow hit. The storm battered the cabin with an intensity I had never experienced before. The temperature dropped so drastically that water quickly froze in puddles not blown empty by the ferocious wind and wildlife huddled or died where they stood having no time to find shelter. Frozen birds fell from the sky. We went back into the cabin and resumed work on our project.

We estimated that Carlisle would still be in town when the storm hit there. Neither Esme nor I expected him to try to come home in this brutal weather.

At first the fierceness of the unforeseen spring storm was exhilarating but the excitement wore off as it became apparent that the storm was dangerous enough to damage the cabin severely and my little one too. Esme was nervous although we both knew that the storm couldn't hurt us. It was deeply upsetting when the cabin was beginning to shudder. The roof was rattling and shingles were flying away. Windblown snow and ice were coming in through the damaged roof and the widening cracks in the wall where the wind driven ice scoured the chinking away.

Around noon we heard crashing noises from all around as the winds passed gale force and started toppling the heavily snow laden trees.

We hadn't imagined the storm being a danger to us, so we were unprepared as two huge trees north of the cabin fell, bringing the entire cliff face down with them, crushing cabin around us. One of the enormous trees crashed through the roof and massive boulders and the half the cliff face pinned us under the debris.

I struggled to get to Esme but I found I was trapped and couldn't move. Remarkably and a bit frightening was the fact that I felt physical pain. The central roof beam, the tree and boulders atop it had crushed my right arm, lower body and legs. Barely a foot above my face was a shattered roof joist and ice covered shingles pressed against the trunk of the tree.

I knew that Esme was trapped and also in pain. The force of the rock fall and the massive weight of the boulders had managed to crush and tear into our stony flesh just as it crushed the stone flooring. The noise of the storm kept me from hearing the recognizable sound of tearing vampire flesh but nothing prevented me from feeling both my pain and Esme's.

I had watched as she had tried to push against the collapsing roof but the weight was too much. I saw through her eyes as the roof shattered around her and the massive weight pressed and crushed her into the floor stones pushing them both deeper into the ground. The outer layer of softer wood shaped around her stone face and body but her outstretched hands and fingers were shattered against her chest and her small feet were twisted and split. Her pain was quite severe and made me cringe. I hated that she was in pain but I wasn't in much better shape.** ***

I was lucky, escaping being totally pinned by the weight as Esme had. My face and upper body were in a void less than a foot high, two feet long and almost as wide. A crushed but massive limb, the size of a tree itself, created it. That limb, jutting from the trunk, and the roof beam molded itself around my arm, lower torso and legs. Huge boulders atop them both kept me from being able to move.

Between Esme and me our strength, even with her newborn power, wouldn't have been enough move the massive weight. We would need Carlisle's involvement. Until we could get the weight off of us our self-healing properties couldn't help us out. The pain was severe but endurable.

I reached out with my left hand and dug at the wood covering my stomach with my fingers but the weight of the boulder pushed the wood tighter against my body and the pain got worse.

_Just leave me here until Carlisle gets home,_ Esme said, not knowing that I couldn't reach her. _I'm quite alright and it is not uncomfortable lying here. I will just listen to the storm noises. I suggest you do the same._

She was lying, she was very uncomfortable. The feeling of entombment also frightened her but as always she was trying to calm me. She knew I could hear her pain and her fear.

I was grateful that she didn't need to breathe to talk to me. I was also grateful that she was solid as stone or she would have died in the first second.

I heard wood shatter again as another tree fell nearby and then another followed by other rock falls. Fuzzy childhood nightmares from my past fueled by our unexpected pain and Esme's fears spiraled out of control and I couldn't seem to rid myself of ridiculous but terrifying scenarios. Thoughts of remaining buried and in pain for hundreds of years or a tree hit by lightening burning us into ashes inundated my mind.

I began to panic; my imaginative mind only too willing to provide even more bizarre and hideous situations. Although I knew our current damage and pain was only a temporary inconvenience I couldn't get the panic and fear to leave me. At the moment I couldn't think rationally.

"Esme tell me a story, I need something to focus on," I yelled at the wood inches from my face, struggling under the weight, the pain and fear in both our minds.

Esme heard me somehow and her relief at hearing me was surprising because she had left her fear unthought-of until I called her. Because I hadn't replied moments earlier she had been afraid that I was in her situation; trapped, in pain and unable to speak out loud. I felt awful that I hadn't replied to her immediately but I still wasn't thinking rationally.

_Yes, certainly,_ her voice came into my head, soft and warm and full of wistfulness. _Carlisle_. She almost forgot her pain and fear as she opened her favorite memory, she shared it willingly, the visuals were brilliant but her 'voice' was glorious.

*** I used the Twilight Lexicon website and S. Meyer's answers to questions to determine that this scenario was indeed possible and plausible.**


	42. A Story of the Past

Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

42 A STORY OF THE PAST

Edwards POV, though Esme is telling him of her past.

'_I knew Carlisle much of my youth. He arrived when I was eight and he was our town doctor. He was always alone and seemed to expect to be alone, though everyone was appreciative of Dr. Cullen's medical care. People came from miles around for his services but they never invited him into their homes when they weren't ill. Even at my young age I knew that they were rude to treat him in such a way and it upset me that he just accepted their treatment. I tried several times but couldn't get my parents to invite him to our house either. Although he was much respected, he was feared and I didn't understand it._

'_As I grew up Dr. Cullen fascinated me, his beautiful face, amber eyes, his pale skin and blonde hair. I had never seen him court any of the women who I knew were pining away for him. All of the other bachelor men were courting and eventually got married, so I wondered why Dr. Cullen wasn't doing the same.'_

Her vision was vivid. I could see the faces of the women, some married, that were pining away for Carlisle. The women ignored the young girl playing on the floor, as she listening while they gossiped openly.

She had re-memorized those events and they were the fresh and vivid memories of a vampire not the fuzzy vague memories of a past human life.

'_When I was about thirteen, I got brave enough to ignore everyone's reluctance and befriended him. I began by asking him about neighbors who were sick or getting well but then quickly changed the subject to the forest. He seemed to spend quite a bit of time in the forest when he wasn't in town. He told me he loved to be in the deep forest especially when the sun was bright; that he loved the 'greenness' that the sun made filtering through the shade of the trees. I tried to follow him but he eluded me quickly._

'_I went into the forest by myself on sunny days to try to see the greenness he was talking about, but I didn't have the eyes to see it the way he did. I followed him time and time again to find out where he went. Thinking maybe I went to the wrong place to see what he saw. He always evaded me_,' lost in the memory, her thoughts sparkled with mirth.

Her visualization of the story she was telling became more intense as more of my mind sought hers. We both pushed our physical pain to the background. When I tried to think about anything other than her words all I saw were nightmares.

'_As the years went by I kept our conversations going beyond my various neighbor's health issues with the new things I was learning in school. Many days we would sit on the porch of his clinic residence just out of reach of the rain and he would tell me history that I never knew and the teachers didn't teach. He corrected some of the events that he said my history books had wrong. _

'_He was just being kind, indulging my adolescent curiosity and I guess I was alleviating some of his loneliness and isolation. He never encouraged me to spend time with him but he was always gentle and polite. I eventually fell in love with him.'_

The panic that had held me was slowly subsiding. Listening to her tell the entire story for the first time was soothing, entertaining and enlightening. Normally I just picked up fragments or fractured segments of the fond memory from her mind. Patient listening, I decided, was a good thing similar to reading a book.

'_When I was sixteen, at the end of one of our history conversations, I got bold enough to ask him why he hadn't married, hoping that he was only waiting on me to get old enough. He looked shocked and upset like I had just struck him. I left quickly before he could see me cry. At first, I didn't know why he would respond so negatively to my question but later I realized he had just reacted to my outrageously personal question and couldn't help the look on his face._

'_I felt I had ruined our friendship by asking the question. I didn't know how to just ignore his reaction and continue like I was oblivious. I fretted and fretted because I wanted to maintain our relationship. Even if he wasn't waiting for me to grow up, I wanted our friendship. I was too embarrassed and didn't know how to apologize, so our friendship wasn't restored. I was upset with myself and didn't go to see him again but still I couldn't ignore him. I followed him like a shadow anytime I saw him out on foot._

'_On my way home from school one day I saw him heading for the deep forest so I followed him for a while. He was walking fast and getting too far ahead of me. I climbed really tall in a tree in hopes of seeing where he went. About 15 feet up, the dead branch I stepped on broke beneath me and I fell._

'_I guess I screamed as I fell because it seemed that Dr. Cullen was there almost as I hit the ground. My leg was broken, twisted beneath me. I was in great pain but he was there immediately tending to me. He soothed me talking me through the pain as he straightened my leg and believe me it was painful. I must have screamed more than a few times before he got it splinted. But afterward the love I felt for him was so intense it ached inside me. When he picked me up to carry me home I was in heaven. I could feel his cool arms around me and I pressed my face against his cool chest and breathed in his wonderful scent. I didn't think about anything except that Dr. Cullen was holding me. He was my healing angel._

'_He visited every day so I remained in my heaven, but at the end of that week, he came to tell us that he was moving away. It was the worst day of my young life.' _Esme paused thinking about that worst day.

The storm continued to rage around us, but my fear and panic were gone now. I began thinking about our situation and what I could do instead of just laying there waiting for Carlisle to come home. Esme resumed her story as I tried to free myself.

I was lying face up on the ground. My arm was free so I smashed the flagstone floor beside me and crushed them into gravel. I reached behind my back, crushing those stones also, then I started digging into the packed frozen dirt beneath me. I began to sink into the hole I was digging and the pain in my arm, abdomen and hips eased. When I got deep enough I felt relief from the abdominal pain and freed my right arm. Then I began digging out beneath my legs. As quickly as I release the pressure on my legs they began to heal, relieving the pain. Relief from my pain made me realize the possible level of Esme's pain and I became frantic to get to her.

I healed completely in the few moments it took to free both my legs then I was able to turn over and dig my way out from underneath the huge boulder that had missed my head by less than a foot.

When I stood I felt dwarfed next to the rock fall. I was astonished at the devastation caused by the falling cliff face. Basically no trace of the cabin could be seen.

The wind screamed and the icy snow scoured the places not protected by the lee of the trees and boulders, the snow piled in drifts where the wind couldn't reach it. The vicious ice-filled wind swirled and eddied.

"I'm out now, Esme. I'm coming to get you," I yelled over the storm

'_Thank you, Edward_,' she sighed mentally. Her story was finished, but she kept a pleasant dialog going in her mind about how we would finish our project, though she knew it beyond hope of finding much less saving.

I circled the entire scene and I got as close as I could to where Esme lay. There was no way to move the boulder it was twenty feet around, it had crushed the tree that entombed her into the ground.

I felt helpless for a moment then another nightmare struck of being incapable of doing anything to help her. I pushed the nightmare aside and began crushing stone, digging with my fingers into the boulder and the frozen rock hard dirt below. I knew I could dig her out and could relieve her pain.

_I hear you. You are far away; this tree must be huge, bigger than we thought._

Not just the tree, I shook my head, the whole situation was bigger than we thought. We should have just run when the roof started to fall. _Next time_, I laughed humorlessly. We had been so innocent and arrogantly sure of our strength and invulnerability.


End file.
